Personal
by gogogeisha
Summary: Everything worked out as it was supposed to. The reapers were gone, the relays were repaired, the geth and EDI were brought back online... Everything went according to plan. Everything except for Garrus and Shepard. Her future in shambles, Shepard does what she does best - move forward. Luckily for her the galaxy isn't done with the Hero of the Citadel. FShepxGarrus, FShepxOC
1. Storm

**This chapter is short just because it's, well, the beginning! Just a little teaser as I write chapter two... Which will be posted shortly!**

**Reviews are always welcome and icyfreezerpop is my hero!  
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The war had been over for well over two years.

People had survived, picked up the pieces, and moved on with life.

Ships were repaired, the relays were repaired, and even EDI and the geth were brought back online.

Everything was progressing smoothly, except for Jane Shepard. She was still unconscious after being found in the rubble of the Citadel's presidium.

Specialists had come and gone, friends visited as much as possible, but she still slept there motionless, unaware of the passing of time and opportunity.

A year passed and she was able to breathe on her own, her injuries almost all healed. A year longer and the visits all but stopped.

Only Hackett still stopped by whenever he was planet side to deposit some lilies, update her on the times, and to apologize, again, for pushing her through the Reaper War.

She had been medically retired months prior, it being decided that if she ever did wake then she would no longer be in a condition to lead or fight – her down time was too long and the injuries took too much out of her.

Unfortunately for them, they had forgotten who they were dealing with.

The storm raged outside of Vancouver B.C. for hours before the tedious sounds of rain splattering the window caused her to open an eye.

Slowly, as if reciting to herself how to make her body respond, she opened the other eye and moved to sit up.

Her muscles were indignant at the prospect of work; they had been allowed to sit still for too long. She looked at her surroundings, old letters and cards placed nicely on the stand next to her bed. She had a feeding tube in, and what felt like a catheter.

How long had she been asleep again?

Where were her crew? Where was Garrus? They never would have left her side, left her alone, if she was injured.

She tried to activate her omni-tool only to find that she no longer had the implant. Strange.

She tried to move more, to stand, and then felt the pull of medical equipment effectively binding her to the bed.

She tried to speak and nothing came out. Her throat actually hurt from the effort so she decided to hold off for now.

She hit the Call Nurse button on her monitoring equipment and sat patiently. This would all be sorted out eventually; she just needed to let everyone know she was awake.

Once the initial shock wore off of her currently awake status, the staff got to work testing her memory and physical capabilities. She could stand, with help. She could talk, with effort. Hell, the only thing that seemed to be easy right now was breathing and eating. She could still manage a fork and she counted that as a win!

The doctor informed her that she had a visitor and her heart rate picked up. She was hoping for a tall figure with decidedly sharp angles to come in to view, blue colony markings to shine in the dull light, blue-green eyes to pierce into her soul and remind her why she even wanted to wake up in the first place.

Instead she was greeted with blue fatigues and an aging face. A friendly face, a concerned face, but not the face she wanted.

He explained to her the time frames and how long she had been gone. He told her what her crew had been doing and that she had been retired. He told her how the krogan had been keeping their end of the bargain for the genophage cure and even had an embassy on the Citadel.

He was telling her everything except what she wanted to hear.

The weight on her chest grew the longer he spoke to the point where the discomfort was almost palpable. She forced herself to ask the question she had been wanting to hear and was now dreading to know.

"Garrus?" Was all she could say, but he would know what she meant.

She didn't miss the way his eyes had grown cold, the way his body had shifted from awkwardly comfortable to tense and the way his fists held onto the bed rail a bit more desperately.

"He's a spectre now, which should please you. He spends much of his time on the Citadel with his mentor and… companion, Spectre Quinela."

He said the word companion softly and it tore through her heart. She looked down and to her credit managed not to cry.

She felt like she had been slapped – what happened to finding out about turian-human babies? What happened to a future? She hadn't died.

She didn't say anything else for the remainder of her visit with Hackett. She didn't comment when he left, the hollow look in her eyes worrying him more than her silence.

When she was alone she let the silent tears fall.

She'd given everything for this damned universe and it left her with nothing in return. No job, no team, no love… Just more challenges.

Anger quickly replaced her initial despair.

Well fuck them.

Fuck Garrus Vakarian and the horse he rode in on.

Fuck her team for not being here. She went through hell to make sure they were all taken care of, how bad was it to expect something in return?

Hackett had said her last team member visitor was three months after she had been found and the last time he received communication from someone, Tali, was six months after.

Fuck. Them. All.

Six months and she was no more a memory.

She could do whatever she wanted now, Hackett had informed her that her Spectre status was still good – he had checked before coming to see her. She just needed to pass a physical evaluation.

She would pass. She could still do something in this galaxy and it was something she did well.

She didn't need a team anymore. She didn't need anyone else.

She quickly grabbed at the portable terminal that Hackett had left for her and typed up a message to Councilor Sparatus. He had told Hackett personally that he would sponsor her training; he owed her he had said.

Damn right he owed her.

She waited countless minutes for a response – hell time wasn't really tangible to her at the present. She didn't look at the clock, but she was aware of several episodes of whatever cheesy soap opera was on the vid screen had come and gone.

When the response finally came she felt herself relax. He had agreed and said he had something particular in mind. Something he wanted to discuss in private, something he was going to travel to Earth to tell her.

She already decided she would agree but she didn't say as much. She would take whatever he wanted if it meant getting out of this bed and back in a job. Hell, she'd work for him personally at this point, old issues be damned.

As she waited, she formulated her physical regime in her head. She had a timeline to keep now, goals to achieve. She wouldn't be some dolt sitting on the sidelines for long.


	2. Beginnings

Shepard didn't have to wait long before Councilor Sparatus made his appearance. He arrived at her hospital within the week, his company of guards alerting everyone within a 20 kilometer radius that someone important was in the hospital.

Not that such a thing was unheard of. Shepard herself had a guard posted at her door to protect her against unwanted visitors – though her presence in the hospital had been forgotten over the years.

It wasn't unusual for higher officials to be within Alliance hospitals so the guards themselves weren't anything out of the ordinary. No, what was unusual was the way every single room was swept before the Councilor walked past.

Had life grown so dangerous for members of the Council since the fall of the reapers?

Sparatus found Shepard stubbornly trying to make her legs work. She was succeeding… A little bit. She had been immobile for so long that she needed to retrain her muscles on what they were supposed to do.

Had he not known the woman she was he might have reconsidered his proposal to her, but he knew the woman she would be again and knew he could count on her to come back swinging, as the humans said.

She nodded to him as she forced a few more steps out of herself on the treadmill. It was an interesting setup. She couldn't hold her own weight by her arms, so she was in a hoist of sorts and was simply concentrating on getting her legs to move in the correct manner.

He silently noted that he would hire some of the best physical therapists and physical modification specialists in the galaxy to help her get back in to fighting form.

Her partner was already getting anxious to get a move on with their project.

Sparatus waited patiently for Shepard to continue her workout and then work her way back to her bed before speaking. Her resolve was impressive, as anything with her always was.

Sparatus had spent a lot of time mulling over his initial dislike of the first human spectre and deciding if he still felt the same way. He didn't. It was an easy conclusion to come to after looking back on all that she had done, and all that he had participated in putting her through.

Hindsight was 20/20, as the human councilor had said on many occasions. It was easy to look back and see the way things should have gone.

It was just too bad that the councilor had to wait two years and six months for Shepard to wake up.

Once she was settled, Sparatus waved his security team in to sweep the room for listening devices, and unsurprisingly finding a few. They efficiently removed the bugs they found and set up a subsonic transmitter to distort any that they didn't find.

The Shadow Broker was still active even after all this time, and Sparatus was taking no chances in him finding out the Council's newest venture.

"Shepard, it's good to see you're still as headstrong as ever." He fluttered his mandibles into a grin as he said it, knowing she was well versed in turian expressions.

She snorted before outright laughing and shaking her head, "It's nice to see someone who doesn't treat me like I'm about to break."

He wasn't surprised that she was being treated as such, she had recovered from some grave injuries while she slept, and her body was unaccustomed to the punishment she was no doubt about to unleash upon it.

"Yes, well, I think we both know I've underestimated you one too many times, Shepard." He watched her humor peak a bit as her eyebrow rose. It was as much of an apology as she was going to get out of him, he was about to make up for his past discretions in other ways.

"On to my proposal. With the end of the reaper invasion the council was targeted by various groups for coups attempts. Apparently Udina had inspired a lot of people to try and overthrow the current galactic government. We've persevered, for now. However the other councilors and I have decided to create our own private guard."

He could tell her interest was piqued and continued with a bit more enthusiasm. In truth, this entire undertaking was his brainchild.

"All of the members will be from our most trusted spectres. They will remain anonymous, their identities never revealed for security. If it was known that our top spectres were all in one place, it would simply make them targets for their own assassination attempts on top of ours. There will be two guards per councilor – Councilor Tevos and Valern have already chosen their guards. I want you to be my second. My first is a man I have worked closely with for many years and I know that you two will make a good team. I am willing to personally finance your recovery, including upgrading your implants."

He sat silently while she digested the information. It was a lot to take in. He didn't realize he had been holding his breath until she cleared her throat.

"It sounds like a nice job, and one that I would indeed enjoy… But I have to ask, would I – and my teammate – just be following you around everywhere, or will there be other things to do?" She grimaced at her question. She didn't want to seem ungrateful… But following a councilor around day in and out seemed like it would get rather repetitive and, frankly, boring.

He chuckled and shook his head, "No, of course not. Yes, you will be required to be there for any large events or public appearances, but we will also have tasks for you to complete. Think of it as being the elite of the special forces. Delicate situations that also require a trusted individual will be handed off to the guard. The galaxy is no longer a friendly place in many areas, more than ever we need individuals we can trust to get things done efficiently and discretely."

He hoped he was making this sound something more than being his personal assassin and errand runner. It was true that such tasks would more than likely fall to the guard, but that was not their primary focus.

"Alright. Count me in." She said shortly after he finished talking and truth be told he was surprised at how easily she had agreed.

He was prepared to have to convince her, Shepard had never been one to be a tool of the Council. Apparently two years in a coma could change a person…

Two years and waking up to finding yourself forgotten. Sparatus was not unaware of what her former lover and companion was currently doing. He had actually found himself being more short than necessary with Vakarian because of his choice to move on from the woman.

Sparatus wasn't sure why he cared so much, but he felt it was too soon to give up hope on Shepard – and he had been right.

He nodded when his thoughts shot back to the current situation. "We will need to fake your death. We don't want suspicion that you're alive and working on the Private Guard. Like I said, it would just make you a target as well. You'll be enough of a target for being the ones guarding us, we don't need to add personal vendettas on top of everything. I trust this will not be a problem?"

He eyed her expecting, again, a rebuttal or at the very least some push back. Again she surprised him.

"That's fine. I prefer it that way." He watched the last vestige of humor fade from her eyes as she spoke. He understood her a little better in that moment.

Commander Shepard of the Alliance had died giving everything for the galaxy. She had given everything for her crew, for those she loved. She was aware she had faded from their minds and she was willing to drive the final nail in the coffin.

He understood that she was starting a new life and she was saying a final goodbye to her old life.

Good, he needed her focused on the present.

He nodded and extended his hand to her. She sat up straight as she accepted and returned the gesture.

"I will set everything in motion. I will be transferring you to a remote outpost for the rest of your recovery. You will meet some mercenaries that will attack your ship and, unfortunately, succeed in blowing the ship up. They will then move you to the facility where my medical teams will be waiting."

She nodded and smirked. "I assume I'll have to pick another name." She seemed entirely too amused by the idea, he noted.

"Yes, you don't have to decide immediately. Once you get to the facility all of your records will be under your new name – so just decide by then."

He turned to leave, his entourage already one step ahead of him. "Stay safe Shepard, and I'll see you soon."

As the door closed behind him Shepard made to lay back in her bed.

She wondered if she should feel more worried about essentially flipping off her former crew. True, some of them really didn't deserve it… It's not like a comatose woman would respond to messages… But, still. She had sacrificed so much for them and she felt slighted that they didn't seem to care.

She had been awake for a week and hadn't had a single message or visitor other than Hackett. She felt a pang at the thought of deceiving Hackett, but if he ever found out he'd understand. He had been involved in black ops in his own days, so he knew how it was done.

A more bitter part of her hoped that Garrus Vakarian hurt by her death, that he regretted what he had done and that he hadn't even bothered to come see her.

She hoped that he hurt as much as she did.

It wasn't a kind thing to wish on someone, it wasn't the mature way to handle it.

She didn't give a damn.

She would try to leave the hopes and dreams of Jane Shepard behind her, she only had a few days left as her anyways. For now, she would sulk and remember. She would pay homage to her old self until the day came for her rebirth.

On that day, Jane Shepard and all that she had done would cease to exist.

Sure, she'd remember her past – how could she not? But she would just take the lessons learned and apply them to the future. She wouldn't sacrifice everything for those who would so easily forget her.

Sparatus' faith in her solidified her resolve. It wouldn't be so bad working for him, he had been one of the two people who gave a damn about her. Hell, she was practically an invalid and he was putting his own resources and trust in her and her ability to be everything he needed.

She wouldn't let him down, he was about to be her only friend left in the galaxy.

The rest of the week progressed much the same as before. Physical therapy, bathing, feeding, thinking.

Finally the time came for her transfer. Hackett had called to ask if she was sure just hours before and she had adamantly argued for the transfer. He didn't see any reason to not allow it and signed off on her release.

It's not like she was military anymore anyways.

Sparatus was not there, but members of his private guard were. Some of the same men and women who had been with him when he visited.

The one in charge, a severe looking asari named Neela, simply asked if Shepard was ready before giving the go-ahead for them to begin the charade.

Shepard found herself looking forward to her figurative death. She was excited for what came after. She knew there would be pain, tears and blood… But she didn't care. She wanted it, longed for it. It meant she would be one step closer to being the spectre she knew she could be.

She was ready to move on with her life.

The group moved her from the hospital to the transport with no issues, only a few curious onlookers. Once on and secured, Neela looked at Shepard and brought up her omni-tool.

"What will be your new name, Shepard?"

Shepard had been debating this one and, hell, she could pick what she wanted. "Oya". Neela, to her credit, said nothing and just input the name into her missive to the advance team. Probably not recognizing the strangeness of the name.

Oya, the Yoruban Undergoddess of the Niger River, the guardian of the underworld. Fitting, since she apparently seemed to go there a lot. Besides, she always wanted a weird name.

The trip itself was even more uneventful than her escape from the hospital. They boarded the ship easily enough and left Earth without as much as a delay – almost unheard of in British Columbian weather.

They were quickly through the relay and well on their way to the halfway point – her death place.

Fittingly, Sparatus chose a place near Alchera, her first resting place.

The man was a right comedian. Shepard found herself feeling almost annoyed that he chose the same place, but it was quickly replaced by humor as the advanced warning system started to sound.

They were acting as if it really was a well and true raid, probably for the transmissions that would be sent before the ship went off the grid. It was hard to fake panic unless there was some element of truth.

The crew in on the ploy were calm and collected as they gathered around Shepard and prepared for the final transfer, the rest of the crew manning station and preparing to be boarded.

The mercenaries shot on the vessel for good measure, adding more chaos to the mix. Neela typed away on her omni-tool and deactivated the surveillance for the ship, allowing them to move freely and unseen when the ship's remains were recovered for investigation.

A few more shots to uninhabited portions of the ship triggered the alarms to abandon ship. Shepard knew that there were ships more than likely within retrieval range to pick up the crew that ejected in a timely manner – not too timely, however.

The wheeled her through the ship to the shuttle bay, waiting for the boarding party.

More shots rang through the air as the hull was pierced again, the last pods shooting from the ship and the "All clear" order from their pilot.

The pilot joined them shortly, verifying that no crew were injured and that all transmitters were ready off ship. The mercenaries arrived shortly after and they boarded the transport just as the final signal was given to end the ship.

Neela and her group were the only ones taken, having stayed to protect Shepard. Shepard's body, however, would be unrecoverable as the mercenaries were hired to end her violently.

They witnessed her shot, burned and then remains ejected in to space. The Council would have to negotiate for their recovery, as they were unharmed because they weren't the target.

Shepard would be dead when the ship exploded, violently, and in front of the escape-pod bound crew. Her transport bed ejected in to space with healthy blood splatter from carefully collected vials prior to their departure.

She was moved to a wheel chair and they started the final leg of their journey.

By the time they arrived at the private medical facility, which was more like a floating research station, Shepard was exhausted.

It had been the most action she had seen in years, and it was wearing on her.

The doctors welcomed "Oya" and proceeded to move her into her private room.

Now the real fun and games could begin.


	3. Reflections

**Thank you to everyone who is reviewing! I greatly appreciate them, even any critiques. **

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Shepard, or Oya as she needed to start referring to herself, never once regretted her decision to embark on her new life. Even watching her own funeral, with people gathering around to talk about how much of an inspiration she was, didn't faze her. She watched her some of her old teammates go up and talk about her.

James and his non-stop referral of her as "Lola", Liara tearfully saying her goodbyes but talking about how – with Shepard in the coma, she had prepared her speech long ago, and even Wrex there to say how she was the best friend the krogan ever had.

She knew she should feel something, some small pang of guilt for letting her friends think she was dead… But she didn't.

Hell, she wasn't even mad that Garrus didn't make an appearance at her memorial. It was probably unseemly to go and talk about how your ex-girlfriend saved the galaxy and was such an inspiration while your new girlfriend waited for you in the audience.

Moreover, Shepard didn't feel like an inspiration. She felt like a failure. Sure, she had pretty much saved everyone – given life a new lease on the galaxy, brought species together that before refused to negotiate, but she had been chewed up and spit out in the process.

She was surprised when a call beeped through to her omni-tool from Sparatus. He was calling to check in on her, make sure she was alright, and checking on her emotional state after the memorial.

It was weird to her, to go from loathing the man and wanting to spoon his eyeballs out with a spork, to relying on him for friendship. He was diligent in ensuring that she was comfortable, that her doctors were treating her well and that she was sure she had made the right choice.

She appreciated his calls and as her treatment progressed, she looked forward to telling him of her improvements.

It was a surprisingly easy friendship that grew between them. He often talked about his wife and grown kids, referencing Shepard and her new partner – who she didn't know his or her name yet – being able to relax on their downtime, and eating dinner with his family.

The planning was making made her feel better, like she was a part of something again. She had initially entered this project to busy herself both physically and mentally. She hadn't counted on actually liking the people she worked with.

She was too used to adversity, too used to having to earn loyalty of her team. Well, she had earned Sparatus' loyalty in the previous years… But it didn't feel the same. She hadn't gone through hell and back _just_ to get on his good side; it was more of a happy by-product.

The unintended, or maybe intended, consequence of the easy friendship was a renewed desire from her to live up to and exceed his expectations.

She worked hard to beat the doctor's estimations for each level of her recovery. They said it would take her three months to be walking on her own, she did it in one. They said she would take four weeks to adjust to her upgraded neural, ocular, biotic and physiological implants, it took her two.

She didn't want to take more time than absolutely necessary in order to be ready for the field. She worked with a personal trainer, a gymnastic expert, a combat trainer, a tech expert, a biotic, and a stealth specialist all in the hopes of bettering her performance on the field. And their assistance had helped.

Her muscle memory of combat was already there and she harnessed her earlier skills and added new ones to her repertoire.

By the end of the year, Shepard was in better shape than she had been during the reaper invasion.

She was ready to leave the facility and meet her partner. She was the last guard member they were waiting on before revealing the project to the galaxy and she was anxious to get on with it.

Before leaving the facility, she was given her armor. It was an infiltrator's armor, as she expected. It reminded her of a quarian's environmental suit. She had her face and head covered by a mask, but it was also adorned with a hood.

The colors on the decorative hood, chest and thigh pieces were muted grays and magenta. She had to admit, she liked it. The rest of the suit was a classic second skin with the gray and magenta patterns making up her hood, crisscrossing over her chest to give the illusion of breast coverings, and then wrapping around to her back to cross over her lower back and end wrapped around each thigh.

The boots of the suit were completely flat in order to aide in her speed and stealth – heels simply wouldn't do. They were stepping away from her classic N7 armor in order to mask who she was… and to add decorative flair to her presence. Her and her partner would have to be visible during fancy dinners and official events, so they needed to look good as well as be functional.

Once the suit was adorned and all of the buckles and latches were in place, she stepped out of her room and walked towards the transport platform with a sway in her hips.

She was now officially Oya, the turian Councilor's personal guard.

The trip to the Citadel took less than a day and within eighteen hours from their onset, Oya was walking purposely towards the Council chambers. She didn't spare much of her attention to her surroundings, glancing here and there to see at the Citadel's reconstruction.

It looked much the same, probably thanks to the keepers mostly. However, flashes of bodies mid-processing flashed in her head occasionally as she happened glanced down a particularly dark hallway or air duct. She was able to shake it off easily enough though, it wasn't the first time she had seen horrors.

She had sleep to relive everything; her time awake was for the living.

She was expected and directed to a dark alley just off of the main walkway to the chambers. A door blocked her way and she was directed to remove a glove from her hand and place it on the security panel. She felt the scan and the corresponding, yet unexpected, prick on her finger – so they had to submit to DNA confirmation before entering; very thorough, she approved.

Her escorts did not follow her and the door closed abruptly behind her. To an unaware onlooker the guards would look just like any other C-sec officers milling around and watching the people coming and going.

She walked down the hallway confidently, she knew what she had agreed to and she knew that this was just the first step in a long journey. She wanted this.

She passed by a few doors with similar security measures littering each side of the hallway, four in all, before she came to the end of the hallway and stepped into a room that overlooked the presidium with one-way glass.

Sparatus was there, flanked by a turian armored in a similar fashion to her. He didn't have any of the decorative pieces she had, but his matte black armor was not as bulky as most turians preferred. His face and fringe was covered by a helmet of the same matte color. He was an imposing sight and she felt the need to stay a bit away from him until she was sure of his loyalties.

She knew it was a ridiculous thought, however. He would have been a spectre before he was on the guard, and a good one at that. His loyalty was not in question, but all the same, Oya felt the need to be careful around him – he made her uneasy.

"Ah, Oya, you've made it. I see you are moving quite nicely. I trust everything is in order then?" Sparatus spoke in his "business" tone. One he reserved for official meetings and proceedings. This was her formal admittance then, not just a courtesy call.

She nodded, "Yes sir." She answered simply. She knew that anyone else listening in on their conversation would only hear the councilor. Her and her partner's helmets were equipped with sound deadeners that, unless they were switched off, only allowed them to communicate with one another and the councilors. Another measure for safety and control.

"Good, this is Stryder, he will be your partner. You two are more than welcome to introduce your former selves to one another in your private apartment – the apartments are swept daily for listening and visual surveillance devices and access to the apartments is strictly controlled. You will wear your armor any time you are outside of the apartments, even in this room. It is imperative that your former identities are never revealed without Council permission."

She had questions, and so did "Stryder", as was apparent by his body language and Sparatus simply raised his hand. "Yes, you two will live together from now on. Each apartment has two separate sleeping areas with a privacy wall for each and then a central living room, kitchen, and private bathing area. There are six apartments in all, only four are currently in use for the four council member's teams. You two will be working very closely together and you were picked because your combat styles and personalities are complimentary."

He didn't give them time to ask any more questions before he started walking down the hallway, leaving them to follow on their own.

"Your room is number three, as the turians were the third species permitted to have a member on the Council. One the next level up is the two remaining apartments that are vacant and a recreational room for training and exercise. You can remove your armor while training in this room as is also swept for devices; however, for the time being, you must reserve your time for the room. Only one team in there at a time."

He stopped and had Stryder remove his glove to admit them into their private apartment.

"Now, make yourselves at home and try to get along." The councilor called back as he casually walked away from the pair.

The last line made Oya's stomach clench a bit… He wasn't sure they would get along; despite touting that they were a good match personality-wise.

They both stood still for minutes after the Councilor had left them to their own devices. They were both adults, but neither was expecting to have to see their partner on such a regular basis. Sure, it made sense from a security standpoint. They were each isolated from the general population and never alone.

The never alone seemed to be what was the most disconcerting, to Oya at least.

Stryder was the first one to make his move, removing his helmet and setting it on the entryway table. He stared at Oya silently with daring eyes, challenging her to remove her own.

She noted that he was handsome for a turian, vibrant red markings on each piece of fringe and mandible. His eyes were a deep green, almost black and his skin was a dark cinnamon color. He reminded her of many of the C-sec turians that were patrolling the embassies during the reaper invasion.

Oya assumed that his colony had a lot of C-sec officers and, in turn, spectre candidates produced out of them. It was probably the colony's main focus area.

She knew that she couldn't spend every waking hour in her suit; sure it looked like a quarian's environmental suit… But it wasn't, so she would need to be out of it at some point.

Oya sighed as she followed his example and removed her own helmet, pushing her hood back to allow her to remove the hardware. Unlike him, however, she tucked her helmet under her arm as if she was presenting herself for inspection… Or planning on putting it right back on. It took her a minute to bring her eyes to meet his after she heard him suck in a surprised breath.

She was a well-known spectre, not someone who was easily hidden and after everything she had done, he had to have recognized her.

Eventually she got the courage to meet his gaze and was surprised by the look she was receiving. It wasn't exactly surprised, but more a mixture of surprise and humor.

"So," he began, his voice more gravelly than even Garrus', "My partner is the great and dead Commander Shepard."

She didn't respond, he knew who she was and it was she who didn't know him.

"I supposed I shouldn't be too surprised that Sparatus handpicked you, though I am surprised you agreed. I would have thought you would have enjoyed retirement."

He eyed her a bit to gauge her reaction and to her credit, she didn't flinch as much as he was expecting. Most of the turian military and council spectres knew the extent of Shepard's injuries after the invasion was stopped, they knew her relationship with then Advisor Vakarian, they even knew what brand of medi-gel she preferred.

"My name is Tiberius." He finally admitted, extending his hand to her.

He had felt no sympathy or anything really for her when he had heard that Vakarian had moved on. He couldn't say he even understood the relationship to begin with; humans were too squishy for his tastes. Though, now that he saw what she was willing to do to escape her old life, he had to wonder with some measure of sympathy if the new spectre's decision had anything to do with it.

She returned the handshake and then quickly dropped her hand back to her side.

"Nice to meet you Tiberius… So, right or left?"

He was dumbfounded by her question and his mind was trying to dig up innuendos that she could be trying to make, but apparently his confusion was obvious to her and she gestured to the two separated loft-style bedrooms on each side of the living room.

"Left or right room." She said with a hint of a smile, her green eyes twinkling in amusement at his reaction.

"Oh, uh, right, I guess." She nodded and abruptly left to get herself situated.

Tiberius had to wonder what his expectations were from her as he found himself being severely disappointed in the abrupt end to their conversation – if it could even be called that. He followed her lead and went to his own sleeping area to deposit his helmet and scope out his new digs.

He had always admired the Commander, as did pretty much everyone. Though, he was wary of her. She was known for being reckless and a little on the aggressive side. He wasn't sure his own reckless style would really be compatible. They just might end up killing the Councilor on their own trying to outdo one another.

He pulled out a holo of his family and placed it on the nightstand. He had given up a lot to be where he was and he wondered if it was equally as hard for Shepard – or Oya as he should now refer to her.

He found himself glancing across the apartment to the wall separating the rooms and wondered why he cared so much. They had just met and while she had been a larger than life figure during the war, now she was just an anonymous guard watching over the council.

What had happened to her for her to want to give up all that she had? She had to have had a cushy retirement set up for her, he had heard that she was medically retired while in her coma and that she was going to be taken care of by the Alliance should she require it.

Everything was set up for her, but instead she chose to die – again – and start over from scratch. He wondered if Vakarian's dismissal had anything to do with it, or if there was something more that had happened after she woke up.

Simultaneously their omni-tools chimed with an incoming message and they both read over the particulars.

The introduction of the Council's Elite Guard was going to happen this evening and they were both to be ready for the parade of power and security at 1900 CST (Citadel Standard Time), there would be photos taken as well as a statement by each of the councilors. They were to remain at Councilor Sparatus' side throughout and then would be released after the dinner.

Shepard swore that she could hear Tiberius sigh at the same time she did.

She was all about protecting the Council and doing her part to ensure galactic stability… But standing around for the press was not her idea of fun.

She quickly glanced at the clock and noted that they only had forty-five minutes to prepare and to get underway. Instead of getting involved in unpacking and personalizing her room, she walked out into the living room and flopped onto the couch.

"Well, I guess that cancels my shower idea." She said to no one in particular. She knew that Tiberius had to have heard her, but she wasn't really expecting an answer.

Tiberius had stalled at her mild complaint and chuckled a bit. Well, they were going to be living together so he might as well try to break down the ice queen veneer. "Pity, I could have joined you." He stated plainly enough, hoping to at least get a chuckle out of her.

Instead he was awarded with silence, gloriously awkward silence. He poked his head around the wall to see if she had just moved out of hearing range and was greeted by the sight of her tomato-red face. He remembered what that meant – she was embarrassed.

He chuckled to himself as she opened and closed her mouth a few times before looking over and realizing he was watching her. She glared a bit and grabbed a pillow off of the couch and threw it at his head.

"Ohh yeah," he said as he thwarted the pillow projectile, "We're going to get along just fine."

He wiggled his mandibles a bit and was relieved when she tried to counter his initial statement in between mutinous chuckles, "You wish your reach was that good."

They continued like that for the remainder of their down time, poking fun at one another and working out the awkwardness of their living situation. He would make some sexual innuendo and she would counter with a stab at his ego – as considerable as it was.

Finally they got ready for their coming out party and donned their helmets once more. This time, they walked more fluidly next to one another, an unconscious reaction to the quickly thinning ice between them.

Sparatus let a grin slide as he watched the two casually walk up the steps of the Council Chambers and take their places at his sides and behind him. He had counted on their personalities meshing nicely.

They stood perfectly still and to the rest of the crowd it would seem that they were the perfect embodiment of good soldiers.

Then, the press came.

Not just the press, an entire contingent. "I hate reporters." Oya groused over the private comm link to Stryder. He was a bit surprised that she broke silence to talk to him, but he wasn't going to sit through this event in silence if he could help it.

"Yeah, saw you decked one a few times in your travels." He deadpanned, earning a poorly stifled guffaw from her. She was still maintaining her composure outwardly, but inside she wanted to cackle at the memories that brought forth.

"She had it coming." She finally was able to state when she was confident that she wouldn't break down into deep belly laughs.

Belting Khalisa Al-whatever in the face had been the highlight of humor even in her darkest days and a memory she could always count on for a good laugh.

"Oh I don't doubt it, oh look… She survived the reapers and is in the audience." He teased and was pleasantly surprised when she did break the good soldier act a bit to try and subtly glance around.

"No she's not! You liar!" She seemed genuinely amused and Stryder counted that as a win. At least in non-combat situations they could entertain one another. He was still apprehensive about fighting alongside her, but at least the out of combat part wouldn't be boring.

Oya had been earnestly looking for the bitchy little twat of a reporter when something else caught her eye. Just the slightest hint of gold and blue armor. Her heart immediately started pounding and all thoughts of the easy conversation at hand fell from her mind.

She could never get a good enough look to see if it was, indeed, Garrus Vakarian striding around the outskirts of the crowd, but the idea that it could be stopped her dead in her tracks. She even had to admit the armor wasn't all that unique, but it was something she saw him in often.

She had never really thought of how she would handle seeing him again, and she supposed that the fact that she was now Oya, the Councilor's guard made it easier. She simply wouldn't talk to him – she made a snap decision there and then to never talk to anyone other than Sparatus, Stryder and the other council guards. She had idiotically recorded her voice all over the Citadel on those "This is my favorite shop" advertisements so even talking could give her away.

Stryder made a few more attempts a levity before realizing that something had distracted her and he focused his attention outwards – like they were supposed to be doing anyways. He wondered if she was going to become a distraction for him since he was already forgetting that they were guards and no longer had off duty time when they were outside of their quarters.

Eventually the press got to ask their questions and, whether they were satisfied with the answers or not, they were dismissed and the formal dinner had started for all of the Council's guests

Oya and Stryder stayed on the Councilor's heels the entire night, only calling out people and situations to watch. Sparatus was listening in now on their conversations and they kept it strictly business. Sparatus was relieved that they seemed to be taking their postings seriously and that they were quick to watch his back. They were each keeping an eye on their own side of the room, watching the comings and goings with a keen eye.

A few too-eager guests were kept away from Sparatus while a few drunken politicians were diverted elsewhere, all allowing Sparatus to engage the guests that he deemed important. It went so well that the night progressed quickly and without event.

It wasn't until the party was winding down and the Councilors were starting to take their leaves when anything of merit actually happened, and it was only of merit to one – maybe two – people present.

As they were following the councilor out, an armored individual stepped out of the shadows and into Sparatus' path. Both Oya and Stryder moved to intercept the man, but were stopped by a simple gesture from the councilor.

"Ah, Vakarian. I thought I saw you lurking in the shadows. What can I do for you?" Sparatus asked casually. Garrus Vakarian had been an important official to Palaven command during the reaper invasion and everyone was surprised when he decided to go for a spectre position after the wars.

Sparatus had a lot of personal respect for the man and had easily passed his application forward, but now, with Oya so close and new to her role, he wondered if maybe he had made a mistake in helping to make Vakarian a spectre.

It was a completely selfish thought, and one he did not seriously entertain, but it was there nonetheless.

He had found himself growing increasingly fatherly in his regard to the human he once found an annoyance and a risk. He chuckled inwardly at his change of heart and promised himself to analyze it more fully later on.

"I was unaware the Council was preparing a personal guard, or should I say, Elite Guard. You guys kept this pretty well under wraps." Vakarian commented absently, "I wonder why applications weren't requested."

Ah, Sparatus realized now why Vakarian was so interested. He was prickled that he wasn't offered a spot. Turian arrogance couldn't be weeded out even with the most un-turian of turians.

"There were no applications, they were handpicked by each councilor. Mine are Stryder and Oya." Sparatus felt more than saw Oya tense a bit at the introduction. He risked a glance back at her and found her completely relaxed looking and even sporting a bit of a bored stance.

He noticed that Stryder was half facing her and more than likely watching her reaction as well. Sparatus filed that away for later – Stryder was worried about her, he could hear it in his subvocals through the private comm channel.

"I didn't see you at Shepard's memorial service." Sparatus noted a bit absently. He hated to drag Oya through this, but he needed to know that she could handle being around Vakarian and handle reminders of her old life.

To her credit, she still didn't change her position, though he heard the subtle click of a comm being removed from the connection. He'd let her have her privacy while he purposely goaded her.

Stryder, on the other hand, moved a step closer to Oya. It was subtle and could be attributed to a shifting of weight, but Sparatus caught the move nonetheless.

Vakarian tensed and glared at the Councilor as much as he dared, the audacity to ask such a question? In such a bored tone as well? He wondered what the Councilor was playing at as he turned to take his leave.

"I mourned her long enough before her death. Going there wouldn't have meant anything." He said in an equally bored tone as he left. He sent the Councilor a loose salute before walking out of sight.

Once out of sight, he leaned against a wall and took a deep breath. He had wondered, since he had heard Jane Shepard had woken in the hospital on Earth, if he had made a huge miscalculation.

He hadn't intended to get involved with Quinela, and Quin had brought up good reasons as to why he should move on. Humans almost never recovered from injuries so grim, and comas of that length grew more likely permanent the longer the person stayed in them. He didn't know much about human medical practice, but the more he researched, the more she seemed to be right.

She always brought it up how it was unfair to him that he remain tied to a good-as-dead woman. At first it had infuriated him, but eventually it started to make sense. She had even brought up that Shepard wouldn't have wanted him to live the rest of his life lonely and attached to a breathing corpse.

He had started relenting, admitting that maybe she was right.

Then, the innuendos had increased. The subtle flirtation no longer so subtle, they started to find reasons to be near one another. They didn't consummate their relationship, however, until he was officially a spectre. She didn't want the Council to think that she had given him special treatment, and she wanted to be with an equal.

They spent a year in bliss, taking out their targets, saving people from the scourge of mercs that never seemed to leave the galaxy alone, enjoying each other's presence.

And then she had woken up. Jane Shepard, the woman he had intended to marry, the reason he had thought of the spectres again in the first place, the woman he had given his heart to. He didn't think he would feel the emotions he had for her with anyone else, and in truth, he hadn't.

What he had with Quin was a pale comparison, but he had resolved himself to it. He loved Quin in a different way than he had Jane. It wasn't as passionate, it wasn't as heated, but it was still love.

He mourned her when he realized that Jane would more than likely not wake up. He had his own goodbye ceremony for her the day he decided it was time for him to move on.

He had spent a solid week afterwards completely inebriated. Quin had to pull him on to the ship, dragging his stupefied body by her own sheer will.

She had nursed him back to health, listened as he talked about his time with Jane, she let him heal.

And it had all been wrong, Jane had woken up. She had survived again and he didn't know what to make of it.

And now she was dead, well and truly dead. He could have been there to help her, to save her, and he wasn't. He could have been there when she woke, helped _her_ heal… And he didn't.

He felt the woeful keen leave his throat as he only could in private. Quin was on a mission and had left him to scout out whatever big news the Council was going to reveal. He could never truly show her how much it hurt that he was with her and not Jane. That he, again, had not saved Jane. It wasn't fair to Quin.

He eventually pulled himself together and made his way back to the hotel room he was staying in, making sure to order a case of brandy to be waiting for him when he got there.

It didn't matter anymore, all he could do was live for those who were alive and to learn from his mistakes. He wouldn't let Quin suffer as Jane must have.

Sparatus had left Stryder and Oya at the entrance to the apartments. Stryder had been watching Oya closely since Vakarian had gone out of sight. She was acting too casual, too calm. He didn't know why he was so damned worried about her, but it clawed at his gut.

He watched as she removed her glove and placed it on the DNA sensor. Her hand was shaking. He didn't know what to do to comfort her. What do you say to someone whose lover just said her death memorial was pointless?

He followed her back to their room and noted the way she didn't remove her gear until she had retreated to her own room. Even then she just stripped down to her undersuit and collapsed on the bed, staring at the wall.

He wished she'd just cry, or do whatever it was that humans did when they were upset. He knew she was upset by the way she lay on her bed, not tense but also not relaxed, she wasn't even pretending to be an ice queen anymore. She was just… Staring at the wall.

He removed his armor and dressed in his civilian clothes, cooked himself food and heated up a meal pack for her. He wasn't even sure why he cared and was bothering.

He brought her the food, noting that it smelled horrible. He tried to rouse her in order to eat by nudging her foot, then her leg, then her hip – carefully avoiding her waist – and then her shoulder.

Eventually she swatted at him, a clear indication that he was at least annoying her out of her self-pity. He sat down on the side of her bed and set the food on her nightstand. He had an idea to get her to snap out of it, but he wasn't really looking forward to hurting her more.

"You know, you're going to tarnish my opinion of you if you continue to act this way." He spoke matter-of-factly. "Commander Shepard isn't supposed to pout." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to see if she would rouse to his goad.

She had started trembling, he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not, but continued. "You know, I've had girlfriends, well… Friends, act better 'bout a break up than this, and they were younger. You'd think a seasoned soldier would react more maturely."

He kind of felt bad saying these things, but he knew the old human adage of "You have to be cruel to be kind."

He didn't even know why he wanted to be kind, she was a freaking human – one he had just met – and he was treating her like an old friend. He hadn't gone out of his way for someone else in decades.

"You're being a selfishly pathetic weakling." He finished his punishment with that simple statement and prepared to leave her to her self-misery when a fist came flying at his face. He didn't have enough time to dodge the initial attack and took two more fists to his other side and his neck.

He finally caught his wits and started defending himself against her attacks, but never returning. He'd seen this kind of pain before and he knew she needed to wear herself out. She needed the release.

Finally after several minutes her hits started to get sloppy and her breath more labored. Eventually she stopped trying to swing at him and leaned each of her forearms against his, her eyes boring in to his chest.

She raised her head to look into his eyes and what she saw there seemed to be the tilting point. She well and truly broke.

He knew she would be mortified if he called her on it, so instead he stayed quiet as the sobbing started. The sobbing eventually became wails of sorrow and at some point she collapsed against his chest. He found himself hugging her to him, trying to give her what comfort he could.

During her attack they had ended up on the floor next to her bed, so he propped himself up against the wall and let her release her emotions into his shirt.

He wondered how long she had been holding these emotions in with no real way to express them. He knew that holding emotions in for too long was bad for turians and he suspected it was the same for humans.

Her sobs slowly stopped and her breathing evened out as she exhausted herself. He found that his chest was wet, but he also found that he didn't care. It felt somehow right, and that did bothered him.

Her breathing started to even out and slow into a steady rhythm indicating that she had fallen asleep on him.

He held her for longer than necessary, selfishly taking enjoyment in the closeness of another person. It didn't help that he had admired her since she became a spectre, and been slightly jealous of Garrus Vakarian. Goddamn jackass got the best posting in history on a designer state-of-the-art ship that planted him right in the midst of every major galactic event in recent history.

Then he ended up being the chosen companion of the hero of goddamn everything. Tiberius didn't even like humans, sure they were enough like asari for his tastes, but they were all so damned rash and haughty.

All of them but her. She had sacrificed for her crew, for everyone. He read the reports. He listened to the damned interviews. She had done everything in her power to better the lives of those around her and then the world shit on her.

He didn't know how long he sat there holding her and stewing in his own thoughts, but at some point in the early morning he roused himself up enough to hoist her up and back into her bed.

Placing the covers, he glanced back at her one last time before retreating back to his own side of the apartment.


	4. Hints

**Thank you to everyone that has reviewed! I appreciate and read each and every one of them and they help to keep me going. **

**A huge thanks to icyfreezerpop for beta-ing for me! I appreciate and love her like no other.**

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"Stryder! Watch your flank!" Oya's order came over the comm link. The mercs that they were fighting were trying to flank them and Oya's main focus was the atlas in front of them.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Stryder was pivoting to take out the enemies behind them and cleaning up any rampart mechs that were still jotting around the battlefield.

Before Stryder could refocus on the atlas the explosion announcing its' demise resounded through the chamber. He looked back to his partner in time to see her doing a little victory dance. Moon-walking was what the move was called and he had to admit that it was hilarious to watch Oya, normally so serious, have a little fun.

Together they walked to the small room at the end of the warehouse they were in and grabbed the data chip that was their target. As they did, the simulation stopped and the walls fell away revealing the large empty room that was the combat simulator.

"Five minutes, twenty seconds. I do believe that is a new record, team three." The announcer bellowed over the loudspeaker. Stryder and Oya shared a quick high five as they made their way out of the simulation room, talking amongst themselves.

Stryder had to admit that his earlier worries about them working well seemed rather unfounded. Yes, they were both reckless and had a penchant for unnecessary violence, but each complimented the other.

When she ducked left, he watched the right and vice versa. Only once did he question her battle logic and that was when she bolted right up to the damned thing. He tried to call her away but was cut off by a barrage of fire in his direction.

His concern was, again, unfounded because she got too close for any of the atlas' weapons to be efficient and the operator was forced to simply try and hit her with the arms. She danced around each strike until he was forced to focus fire on his flank, as she had pointed out. She was literally dancing with an atlas and still had the situational awareness to call out to him when he was about to get shot in the ass.

He wanted to praise her, and the compliments were right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't force them to come out. Sure, they had gotten closer after the night he had held her while she cried, but he was still hesitant.

When she had woken up the next morning she hadn't tried to go back to her ice queen persona, but she hadn't exactly opened up her world to him either. Not that he wanted her to; he just wanted to be her friend.

Ok, maybe he wanted to be more than her damned friend, but Stryder wasn't ready to admit that out loud yet. They were still feeling each other out and she had a lot of baggage. Instead he focused on keeping the friendship light. She was still in a funk and he wasted no time breaking her out of it with gentle humor and the occasional lewd comment.

It seemed to work because by the time they were en route to the training facility they were back to their friendly banter.

After they left the training facility they were sent back to the apartments and were directed up to a private gym for all of the guards. This room, much like the private apartments, had significantly restricted access and was regularly swept for bugs, so they were able to remove their armor.

Stryder tried as hard as he could not to notice the skin-tight pants and strappy top Oya wore for her work out. It wasn't revealing, her core and legs were covered, but it was tight against her skin. It left little to his already rampant imagination… and he would be hard pressed not to notice the way her muscles bunched and stretched under the fabric as she stretched preparing for her work out.

Instead of staring after her like a freshly matured kid, Stryder busied himself in the separate weight room, facing the wall… That was a giant mirror. The weight room may have been separate from the gymnastic and cardio pavilion, but the wall was made of glass. He could still see her.

He figured if he wasn't directly looking at her that maybe it made it less obvious.

Oya, on the other hand, paid no attention to Stryder as she salivated over the workout room in front of her. Normally she mixed weight training in with her regime, but the gymnastic field with parallel bars, a tight-rope walk, and various ropes at different levels to train on scaling things made this her new heaven.

She quickly programed the loudspeakers to play her playlist and she wasted no further time pulling herself up on the parallel bars.

The entire room was set up so that you could jump from bar to bar to get to the tight-rope beam and she was more than enthusiastic about trying her hand at getting up there.

She started with a few pull ups, switching her grips and rotating to one handed for some to get her muscles warmed up before she let go and added some conveniently offered talc powder to her hands. She then mounted the bars again and moved to start her momentum in order to start flipping over the bar.

She did a few rotations before trying anything even remotely fancy; getting her rhythm started with the music she had playing. Dance music, she wondered if Stryder would pitch too much of a fit. She liked all kinds of music, but dance hall music got her blood pumping – a part of her childhood she couldn't quite let go of.

Once she was confident that she was ready she started twisting mid-air and changing her grip on the bar. Eventually she workout out a back flip to the next level bar and continued to work each level enough time that she wasn't rushing, but wasn't taking her sweet time either. She knew she could easily psyche herself out if she waited too long just as much as she could make an error by going too quickly.

After a few minutes and a few levels she finally managed to make her way up to the tight-rope walk. She was about 30 meters above the ground. She was impressed with the height; it was enough that you could get seriously injured if you fell… Good thing she had no intention of falling.

She started to move across the bar with her arms out, taking each step carefully. It was too easy, so she added in a little dip of her foot to each step, then a bounce, eventually she was dancing across the bar.

She got to one end and immediately started to move her way back. She stopped mid-way and eyed the parallel bars below, quickly calculating if she could make the leap to the second level down. It was a good enough distance that it would be tricky, but she had made similar leaps before – just without any finesse.

She shrugged and prepped for the leap, she needed to be prepared for any situation and she rationalized it with the notion that one never knew when they would need to leap from rafter to rafter.

She didn't let herself think on it for too long before she launched herself off of beam towards the bar. Her connection with the bar was harder than she would have liked, but she eased it out with a quick spin around the bar and launched herself at the next level down.

Going down was a much quicker and wholly different experience. She felt like she was launching herself at the bars below her instead of gracefully leaping. When she finally reached the bottom, she hit her landing too hard and ended up on her ass.

Going from 30 meters up to unhurt and on your ass on the ground was a win in her book, especially for a first try. Next time she'd just need to find a way to slow her descent. She popped back up onto her feet and started to eye the rest of the gym, her breath coming in soft but exhilarated pants. It was then that she noticed that Stryder had halfway emerged from the weight room and was staring at her with mandibles slack.

She fidgeted under his gaze and tried to diffuse the situation with humor, "Not bad for an old soldier, eh?" She felt herself absently checking her hair to make sure it was still bundled in the bun she had placed earlier in the morning.

She internally reprimanded herself for being so damned girly about it, but she wasn't used to this much scrutiny. On the Normandy she hadn't really practiced her gymnastics all that much, just a few parallel bar maneuvers in the shuttle bay when she was able and even then people didn't say much about it.

"Old?" Stryder asked confused, "You're what, thirty? If that? I'm thirty-five. " He offered up, trying to regain his wits. She was fidgeting which boosted his confidence a bit. He had been taken by surprise by her flexibility and agility as she worked up the bars at varying levels going up the walls. Hell, she had spun and leapt to a beam near the ceiling and then danced across it, of all things.

His stomach had worked its way up to his throat on more than one occasion as she jumped from one level to another but it about choked him when she launched herself from the beam to the bars again.

Spirits, this woman is going to be the death of me. He thought to himself as she safely landed on her ass on the ground again.

He felt his body heat up as she blushed when she made eye contact. She did respond to him… And he didn't know what to do with that just yet. A part of him screamed in victory as he realized there was a possibility of being more than just her work partner, but another part of him knew that it would be better to stay aloof for now.

Casual flirting was fine, but there was a line they couldn't cross. He didn't want to cross it, not yet at least. He didn't want to ruin their budding partnership and he didn't want to jeopardize what he had achieved with his appointment into the guard.

He resolved himself to just look at her as a friend and Oya, to her credit, did the same. She knew she wasn't in a good frame of mind to start another relationship and she was fine with the playful flirting they engaged in.

Silently and as if on some unwritten cue, both moved to continue their own exercises – away from one another.

Elsewhere in the galaxy, a mournful Shadow Broker poured over report after report trying to pin down who had assaulted the ship that Commander Shepard had been aboard. She couldn't bring her back this time, but she could avenge her.

She dutifully watched every vid feed, contacted every crew member of the ship and person on the rescue teams.

No one knew anything. The pilot apparently hadn't made it off and the cameras suspiciously held little footage of Shepard being moved within the ship even after the attack had started. She ship was left completely decimated and there were no remains to pick through.

It wasn't that unusual for there to be no remains, but the fact that no one could identify the ship that attacked, it was unmarked and there were no registration signatures picked up, was unusual. Even if the ship had been stolen, there would be a registration signature broadcast – unless it was purposely wiped, which was hard to do and usually required some highly regulated equipment.

Liara grew more and more suspicious the more she looked into the attack. Not only was the ship unregistered, but the relay was activated only minutes before and the corresponding activation was in the Hong System; a rarely travelled system with no active mercenary group postings that anyone knew of.

She sent one of her agents in to check it out, see if there was anything that anyone missed, but it was unlikely.

Liara also looked in to the fact that the only two people to visit Shepard once she had woken was Admiral Hackett – not surprising, and the turian Councilor Sparatus – surprising. According to Liara's records, Shepard had reached out to the councilor before he embarked and he had arranged for her to be placed in a different facility for physical therapy.

Liara didn't like that her research was pointing towards the Councilor, but he was the only reason she was in that area to begin with. Everyone knew that Shepard and the Councilor didn't get along and were downright rude to each other on occasion. But, Liara had to admit that their animosity seemed to cool during the reaper invasion.

Liara debated contacting Garrus about her suspicions… They hadn't really been on talking terms since he'd decided to date Quinela. Liara didn't agree with leaving Shepard just yet, she had always kept the faith that Shepard would wake up and Liara didn't want to see Shepard hurt like that.

Liara should have left to see Shepard the moment she found out she was awake… But she thought she'd have time. She knew Kaidan and James were both busy in the field and Tali was working with the geth over city layouts on Rannoch. Bakara and Wrex were planning a trip once some inter-clan conflict was resolved.

The rest were relatively unaware until Shepard's death was announced. Liara had been inundated with calls asking for details, much of which she didn't have at the time.

It was all so strange and Liara couldn't stop the nagging connection to the other spectre deaths the months leading up to Shepard's – or the way the deaths stopped after Shepard. It was like someone was collecting all of the best and brightest of the spectres. They were all known for their own talents, all respected and all given only the most difficult missions.

Eight spectres in all and Liara didn't like it one bit. Liara would have thought the spectres had become the council's new guards… But Shepard wasn't in any shape, and would probably never be, to do something like that.

No, it was connected, but not in that way. The fact that only seven of the spectres were able bodied ruined her idea that they were the Elite Guard.

The Elite Guard was another puzzle she was trying to solve. Their identities were unusually well-protected. She had tried numerous ways to infiltrate their ranks, even to bug their rooms… but she was thwarted at every turn.

Even for the Council this was unusually high security and piqued her interests. She had sent several agents in already and was getting nowhere. All she was able to discern was that access required DNA confirmation… That was hard to manufacture. Sure, they could synthesize a lot, but manufactured DNA had yet to fool the sensor brand the Council was using.

Liara, however, was relentless when it came to mysteries she wanted to solve and she vowed to herself that she would solve both of these. She would avenge her friend and figure out the identities of the Council's guards. At the very least, knowing the identities would help her decide whether the information deserved to be kept a secret, or if she should sell it.

While Liara poured over her reports, Stryder and Oya were engaging in actual combat. Another assassination had been attempted on the asari Councilor. The Council had agreed to spare a guard from the salarian Councilor's staff for Sparatus while Stryder and Oya were sent to track down the group responsible.

The Council was switching whose guards would go after the perpetrators in order to see the Guard in action outside of being, well, the Guard. Eventually each team's talents would be discerned and they would be sent based on what kind of enemy they were going to face, but for now it was simply a ring-around-the-rosy game to determine who went and who stayed.

This time it was Stryder and Oya, and they were pinned down for the moment on some backwater planet in the Traverse. The group they were attacking was well armed – but not very disciplined. They were throwing a lot of ammo right at the beginning and Oya had suggested that they wait it out a bit instead of wasting their own ammo.

The plan seemed to be working if their opponents more frantic screams for "ammo" were any indication.

Once the shooting stopped Oya nodded to Stryder and they erupted from cover in sync. They unloaded on their opponents, one throwing up a barrier when the other needed to reload.

It turned out they made a dangerously effective team in combat and within forty-five minutes they had the base neutralized. Unfortunately it was just an outpost and didn't seem to have any real information on the leader of the organization.

They still went through all of the cached files and sent everything to the Council for them to sift through. They weren't the ones who actually sifted through the data, there were separate teams for that.

Once the mission was complete the two looked at one another for a long minute. Their first real combat test and they found they were a resounding success. They moved like water and air over the terrain, responding to the other's actions without words.

The Councilor certainly had done his homework – they were compatible. Stryder couldn't help thinking that they were compatible in more than one way…

Oya tried miserably to keep from thinking about anything other than how they were in combat. She'd never worked with someone who complimented her fighting style so absolutely. They thought the same on the battlefield and he knew what she was going to try to do before she had even made the decision.

And she knew the same about him.

They walked back to their ship in silence, neither willing to break their invisible talisman against the pure primal urges that were running through their bodies and minds.

Thankfully, their ship had two separate sleeping chambers and they instantly set the VI on a coarse for the Citadel before retreating to their own rooms.

Within minutes, Stryder exited his room devoid of armor and ready to shower the smells and grit of the battlefield off only to find the bathroom was occupied and the door was locked.

He couldn't resist the urge to place his palm against the door, thinking of the woman inside, naked and bathing. He felt his lower plates shift as his chest ached against the need threatening to overcome his reason.

Little did he know, and probably best that he didn't, the very same woman he was thinking of was thinking of him. Her own hand braced on the door, her mind warring with the emotions thrumming through her bloodstream. She felt like she was on fire and the cold shower she was taking wasn't helping.

She wanted what she shouldn't, couldn't have. Fraternization was never discussed, but she assumed it would be frowned upon given the circumstances. Their love lives were secondary to the mission.

Shit, it isn't like I can ask about it now without drawing suspicion. She thought to herself as she went over the situation in her head. No, she'd just have to deal with it. It's not like he felt the same, he seemed perfectly able to just flirt it away. Besides, he had said he'd had lots of girlfriends. He didn't feel the same.

Instead of addressing the issues they both faced, both parties kept their distance. She finished her shower and went back to her room, at which point he took his own and then returned to his room. Both unaware that the other was lying in bed – just as they were – thinking about the same things. Neither slept on the return trip to the Citadel.

Sparatus noticed the tension between the two and smirked to himself. He had brought them together for more than their fighting prowess and the combat team they would make – He had the sinking suspicion that they would heal each other along the way.

It seemed that, while his guards were stubborn, his plan was working.


	5. Firefight

On the anniversary of the reaper's defeat there were large parties hosted on every Council planet each year. This being the fourth year since their defeat, the turian Councilor had decided to attend the formal soiree on Palaven. Of course his guards would be attending as well, but he felt it had been too long since he and his family had been home and that it was worth the hassel.

His kids were grown had their own lives to attend to, but he and his mate would be going. He had warned Oya and Stryder that, while this was on Palaven and the Primarch would be there so security would be high, they were still needed to watch the perimeter.

He also felt that this would be a perfect chance to give them some time alone while they stayed in the shadows. He had been working them relentlessly since they came back from their mission off the Citadel.

Four more attacks on his life in the past three months – and it wasn't just his life, but the other Councilors as well. They all seemed to be orchestrated by the same individual, but they were so disjointed from the main cell that it was hard to pin down who was actually giving the orders.

Each new base discovered and infiltrated only lead to more questions. Whoever was ordering the hits was obviously a professional and aware of the Council's methods of investigation. It was an exceedingly frustrating situation.

They arrived at Palaven's main spaceport two hours before they had to make their way to the capital's banquet hall, just enough time for Sparatus and Saratia – or Sara, as Sparatus lovingly called her, to check into their rental home and prepare.

Stryder and Oya stayed in the main living area, scanning the grounds occasionally and pretending like they weren't both on edge.

It was one thing to protect the Councilor while they were on the Citadel since they both knew the Citadel and had time to research possible points of weakness in their defenses. Here? Neither knew what to expect.

They were going to be mainly staying in the hallways and servant's alleys; they weren't permitted in the actual ballroom unless called by Sparatus.

This was a party for the upper crust of Palaven's leadership and the tradition was that their guards waited outside while they pretended to be normal for a few hours. Even the Primarch's guards would be outside.

It didn't sit right with Oya as it seemed like a perfect opportunity to just kill off everyone in one hit. It reminded her something Javik had once said in her old apartment on the Citadel. It seemed fitting here that she would have similar thoughts now.

When they arrived at the building, Stryder and Oya immediately walked the perimeter of the room, noting that it was open to the elements instead of having a roof. It reminded Oya of ancient roman architecture, wood beams and stucco buildings with pillars supporting areas with ceilings. The ball's roof was open to the sky and had ropes going from one end to the other to retract cloth coverings in the chance that it rained.

It was beautiful to Oya and she was sad that she hadn't been able to see it in its glory before the reapers, or under better circumstances.

Well that's just a depressing thought to start off the night, Oya thought to herself. She was supposed to be guarding Sparatus instead of depressing herself.

Stryder noticed her funk and ran his hand over her shoulder to get her out of it. She turned to look at him and realized he was a lot closer than she originally thought. So close, in fact, that she nearly smacked her helmet in to his.

She stared up at him for a minute, unsure as to why they weren't moving away from one another when another sensation broke through her suit. He was running his hands over her waist and hips, just running his fingertips over her suit. He was shaking when his voice finally broke the silence.

"It's getting so hard to not touch you." He admitted, his voice cracking slightly under the strain of his emotions. Oya sucked in a deep breath as his hand travelled further up to rest on her neck under her hood. He pulled her head forward so that he could rest the forehead of his helmet against her own.

She felt her breath stop as she stared up at his masked face, her eyes wide and her cheeks burning. She hadn't wanted to admit that this was where they were headed; she didn't want to rely on someone again like that.

But she did, apparently. Her body responded instantly to the gesture and her own hands reached up to frame his face. At this moment she would give away all that she owned if it meant getting somewhere where they could remove their armor. She wanted to see his eyes.

The two lost in each other for a minute were observed by almost no one, only a solitary individual who happened to catch a glare of light bouncing off a helmet. Garrus looked at the turian Councilor's Guards, locked in a quick embrace, and his heart rate doubled.

He didn't know why, but for some reason it bothered him. They were on duty, sure, but they were kept from the party by a centuries' old tradition so why not sneak in a quick gesture of affection? It was obvious that "Oya" was either asari or human. Although Garrus had the definitive gut feeling that she was human and for some reason it made the display worse to him.

He of all people had no issues with human-turian relationships, but something in him wanted to claw the male off of her and defend her. It was ridiculous, he didn't know her and he certainly wasn't about to start a pissing match over her.

He was probably just upset because it was another reminder of how he failed Jane. He tore his gaze away from the couple and proceeded in to the party to meet with Primarch Victus since he was there at his friend's request.

Liara had made some headway into her investigation and did not like what she was finding. She had determined the racial makeup of the different teams. The salarian Councilor's guards were two male salarians, no surprise there, but at least one was Jondum Bau, the spectre who had worked with Shepard during the war to find the corrupt hanar delegate.

The asari had two asari and the human Councilor had two humans. The turian Councilor was the only one with a mix of species with his human female and turian male. The male was Tiberius Cretin, a spectre who had gotten notoriety for saving an entire colony from reaper attack by organizing defense plans, but the female was unknown.

All Liara could find on her was that her name was "Oya" and that she had come from a mobile medical facility that frequented the traverse. Liara had just managed to get an agent into that facility and was waiting for the human's medical files.

Almost on cue, her agent checked in with the requested files. Liara read through each file, trying to read between the lines of who this person was when something significant caught her eye.

While she was always referred to as simply "Oya", she had remarkably similar therapy needs to Shepard when she was admitted into the hospital. The timing was also incredibly suspicious. It was something easily overlooked if you weren't trying to find a link and Liara was always worried about confirmation bias, so she called someone who wouldn't be bias – in fact he wouldn't want to find Shepard alive at all, Liara suspected.

"What do you need Liara, I'm a little busy at the moment." Garrus' voice rang over her comm with a hint of annoyance, background music, and voices. Liara could tell that he was at a party and she mentally kicked herself for forgetting what day it was.

He was at the Primarch's gala for the leaders and elite of Palaven. Well… Good, Liara's contacts had said that Sparatus was invited and had confirmed his attendance. Oya would be there as well.

"I'm sorry Garrus, I forgot what day it was. I'm sending you a file on something and I want your opinion on it, it will only take a few minutes." She quickly sent the data package, removing the patients name and details of her therapies. If his first thought was Shepard as well then she'd continue down that thought pattern… If not, she'd look elsewhere.

She watched as Garrus read over everything, his mandibles twitching from time to time in irritation. "Why are you sending me Janes's old medical records?" He groused, unsure of where she was going with this.

"How do you know they're Shepards?" She wondered, her excitement getting away from her.

"The picture of the leg injuries; there's a mole on her inner thigh. Jane had one there too. Also the scar on the left hip is identical to one of the ones left over from Cerberus – Liara, why are you sending me these?" He started to get anxious, Liara didn't do anything without reason and if it had something to do with Jane…

"Garrus, those medical records belong to Oya, the turian Councilor's female guard." Liara said with too much excitement, not noticing the way Garrus' mandibles snapped to his face.

He found himself practically running out of the ballroom, he disconnected the call and ignored the protests of partygoers he had jostled on his way. He burst through the door and immediately went to where he had witness Sparatus' Guards necking earlier.

They weren't there so he started to look for them, he needed to rip that helmet off of the female and verify for himself that Liara's information was just a bad coincidence. It couldn't be Jane. Why would she have faked her own death and who was the man she was embracing earlier.

_A fucking dead man_, Garrus growled inwardly. It was no longer his place to get upset about who she congregated with, but logic wasn't sitting strong with him at the moment. His entire body was thrumming with the idea that Jane could be alive – and with someone else.

Strangely enough, Quin had never even entered his mind as he searched tirelessly for Oya. All he could think of was finding her and verifying, it was more important than his next breath.

Unfortunately, in his quest to find her he missed the presence of many strangely dressed guards.

Oya and Stryder had finally disengaged from one another with promises to meet up later, after the party, and actually got to work patrolling the premises. They had each gone up into the rafters to get a better vantage point, cloaking so no one saw them and tried to get them down since this was not necessarily standard procedure.

It was Stryder who first called attention to the vast amount of guards wearing the same symbol starting to amass. They weren't with any of the party goers that had come in recently and anyone important enough to justify the sheer volume of guards had been in the party a long while.

"Sparatus, sir." Stryder called over the comm, "I think it is time to say goodbye to the Primarch. We have a situation."

Sparatus' head jerked up and he looked around the room, trying to see what they saw. "What do you mean, Stryder?" He patted Sara's arm softly when she looked up at him with concern. Even Victus was now watching the Councilor with a keen eye since his story had stopped midsentence.

"Sir, there's a large contingent of guards amassing through the halls and they're not with anyone that we can tell. They're also more heavily armed than even the Primarch's guards." Oya added in, her voice betraying her unease with the situation.

"Ok, I'll meet you by the South exit. I will have the Primarch with me." Victus nodded as he spoke, typing out an alert to his own guards.

The Primarch and Sparatus had just reached the door when the gunfire started to ring out through the room. One bullet punctured the Primarch's arm while the one meant for his head was stopped by a quickly thrown barrier.

The small human, Oya, appeared standing directly in front of the Primarch while her partner, Stryder, was behind them clearing a path.

They were talking to one another in some way, but it was beyond the Primarch's hearing. They were working in tandem with Oya providing shielding while Stryder made a path for them to the emergency vehicle waiting.

The Primarch, Victus and his wife were in the car when the battle finally overcame the two guards. Oya was holding the barrier while Stryder entered the transport before her. He was turning to give her cover fire when her barrier dropped. She was climbing in to the vehicle as the bullet passed through her shields and tore into her side.

Her scream reverberated through Styder's body and his own angry cry accompanied his return fire at the sniper on the building's roof. The car pulled away and headed towards the Primarch's bunker before Stryder could verify his kills, but his mind was already off of the sniper and back on his partner.

"Oya, can you hear me?!" He called as he turned her over on the skycar floor. It was a stretched model to accommodate more people – or high officials who liked a lot of room. Luckily for its inhabitants it was armor plated and could withstand the bullets pinging off the hull as it sped through the sky lanes headed towards the military protected bunker.

She groaned a bit and Sparatus gasped as she was turned over, the exit wound was much worse than the entry point and she would need something more than medigel to correct the damage. Either way, Stryder slathered the wound with the goop and held his hand over it, trying to add pressure.

"Come on Oya, stay with me here. You need to stay awake." She was fading in and out of consciousness, he could tell by the way her head would lull to the side then snap back to attention with a groan. Sparatus was comforting Sara while calling for a medical team to meet them at the bunker – a team approved by and sworn to the Council to keep the identities of the Guards secret.

Stryder was glad in an abstract way that they realized they'd need medical attention at some point. "Are you going to swear in the Primarch, I doubt you'll be able to convince him to stay behind?" Stryder asked Sparatus while he tried not to panic over Oya's deteriorating condition.

Sparatus nodded absently while he quickly omni-chatted with the Council, informing them of the situation and garnering approval. They had prepared for something like this given the fact that the Councilors would have to return to their own worlds at some point and may need to treat their guards while there.

"It's already approved, I'm just informing the other Councilors that it was necessary much earlier than we had hoped." Victus cocked his head to the side, throwing the Councilor a curious glance and Sparatus sighed.

"They're on private comm channels so I can hear them if needed and they can talk amongst themselves while still remaining hidden." Sparatus explained. "When we get to the facility, Primarch, I'll need to inform you of their identities since we'll need to remove Oya's helmet."

Victus considered this for a moment and nodded, "Their secrets are safe with me." He said honestly and blinked as Sparatus coughed a bit, uncomfortably. "That, I do not doubt, Primarch." The Primarch had the sinking suspicion that this wasn't going to be like the average secret operation. The Councilor was nervous about revealing who they were and he wanted to know why.

He didn't have to wait long, cannon fire sizzled by the car as they rushed through the gates to the bunker. Their hunters were already being driven off when the medical team met the car at the front door.

"Condition?" The medic asked as they helped move Oya from the car. Sparatus took over detailing her injury as they entered the building. Once they were in, Oya was rushed to a surgical room where her suit and helmet were removed. Stryder tried to follow, but was held back by a hand on his arm.

"You can see her when she's out of surgery." Sparatus said softly, knowingly.

Sparatus looked back to the Primarch and nodded, signaling that they were ready to talk and the Primarch led them into a back room, leaving Sara with the guards outside. The room's guards scanned the room three separate times for bugs before the door was sealed and they were left in silent.

"Stryder, take your helmet off." Sparatus eventually said and Stryder hesitantly did as requested.

"Tiberius Cretin, I should be surprised, but I'm not. And the woman?" Victus asked with a hint of understanding.

"Jane. Jane Shepard." Tiberius answered for Sparatus. Victus didn't bother to hide his surprise as he stared at the two of them. The Commander Shepard wasn't actually dead, then.

"She agreed to this?" He demanded, thinking that maybe the Council had bullied or blackmailed her into faking her own death and hiding. Spirits, Vakarian. Victus suddenly thought. What would Vakarian think of this? Sure, he had moved on, but Victus had seen the haunted look in his eye whenever Shepard was mentioned.

Sparatus had the good graces to look surprised by the question, "Of course. I asked her to be on my guard team." He said, getting defensive towards the end. He would defend his choice in Shepard to his death if he had to.

Victus nodded and looked to Tiberius, who couldn't give a pyjacks ass about their conversation at this point and just wanted to be near his injured partner. Victus recognized the look on the man's face. It was the same one Vakarian wore every time Shepard went on a mission without him.

So that's how it was. Vakarian wasn't the only one who had moved on then. Victus was happy for her if she'd found happiness again. He had tried to reason with Vakarian when he had admitted to dating Quinela Larkos. Victus thought it was too fast, Vakarian had shown signs of having bonded with the Commander and to break a bond like that could ruin Vakarian if he ever had to come face to face with his bondmate's pain.

As it was, Quinela seemed to have an almost ironclad hold on Vakarian. He had an answer for every question Victus posed, some sounding so rehearsed that it would make Victus cringe. Then it came down to a question of friendship and Victus stopped pestering Vakarian and let him do what he wanted.

When he had heard that Shepard had woken up he waited to see if Vakarian would make a move to go see her, he made sure Vakarian knew she was awake… But Vakarain had not gone, instead moved further from the Sol system.

Then Shepard had died, again, and Victus was shamed to think that it was for the best. If Vakarian never had to face the pain he caused her than he could get out of the situation still mentally intact. Bonded turians who severely harm their mates were known to have mental breakdowns and some even committed suicide over the reciprocal pain that they endured.

Once Victus gave his promise to secrecy, they three left the room and moved to wait in another area, Sara walking back to her mate's side. Stryder paced until the doctor came out and said she would be fine and could be moved in a few hours when the anesthesia wore off.

Stryder didn't even wait for the go ahead before storming into the room that was her make-shift recovery room just to touch her. He ran his finger over her cheek and finally let out the deep breath he had been holding.

She was going to be ok, he told himself before he pulled a chair up to sit next to her. He would be there when she woke up; he needed to see her eyes to finally calm his racing heart.

Garrus Vakarian found himself leading the rest of the guests out a secret passage in the basement of the Ballroom while the newly arrived military personnel took care of the remaining mercenaries topside. He had been taken by surprise by the shooting, but was quickly informed that the Primarch had made it safely out of harm's way and was en route to his secure bunker.

Garrus had taken a few hits to the chest, just enough to dent his armor, before he had found some guards and put together a protective team for the remaining dignitaries.

Once everyone was safe and the last of the mercenaries was dealt with, Garrus walked through the carnage to see if he could try to determine who these mercenaries belonged to. They all had a symbol on them that reminded him of an ancient turian symbol used by a group of renegades that fought to overthrow regimes pre-spaceflight.

It did not bode well for the Primarch, if they were even his target. The one curious thing about the mercenaries that Garrus also noticed was that they weren't all turian. There were representatives from every species – so it wasn't just a turian-based group. He started to wonder if there was more to the Council's new guard than he originally thought.

Just was he was about to start heading to the bunker to check in with the Primarch, a call from Quin pinged through to his omni-tool.

"Garrus, I just heard, are you alright?" Her worried voice soothed his frayed nerves.

"Yes, I wasn't in the ballroom when the shooting started. A lot of people didn't make it, but the Primarch and Councilor are fine." He sighed, looking around as he spoke.

"Oh, good." She said strangely. "I'm just glad you weren't hurt. I'm going to be ready to rendezvous with you in 15 days at the Citadel if you're ready." She said softer, her subvocals trilling in a way that showed she had missed him.

He tried to trill back, usually subvocals were a subconscious thing, but his refused to work for a moment, rebelling against the idea that he missed her and he couldn't understand why. It seemed to happen when he was away from her for long periods. While he was around her he was a love-struck pup, but when he was separated for her for a while his body rebelled against the idea of being with her.

"Is everything ok?" She asked, her eyes glinting curiously. "Yes, everything is fine. I'm still recovering from the unexpected fire-fight." He added easily, masking his unease.

They talked for a few more minutes and she reminded him to take his medicine – for headaches that developed after the war, before he disconnected the call and started to make his way to the skycar lot so he could go back to his hotel room – all thoughts of the Primarch, the Bunker and Oya gone from his head.

Tiberious watched closely as Jane stood a few hours after surgery. He knew she had implants to help with healing and everything, but he was still uneasy about her walking on her own – but she was insistent. She said she had had worse and of that he didn't doubt.

He was hovering over her as she put her repaired armor back on and got ready for the trip back to the Citadel. Sparatus had requested a Guard from the other Councilors to allow for Stryder and Oya to return to the Citadel and recover. Well, for Oya to recover and Stryder to monitor to ensure that she took it easy.

The other guards were exiting the transport as Stryder helped Oya move in to place. They all respectfully nodded to one another as they passed. Oya and Stryder knew the two that were taking their places - Sora, the asari Councilor's guard and Doran, the salarian Douncilor's guard.

Of course they all had no idea as to their true identities, but Sora and Doran had worked with Oya and Stryder while defending the council against a bomb threat a few months prior and the four seemed to work well together.

The trip back to the Citadel was uneventful and true to form, Oya refused help walking back to the apartment. Once she was securely in their home, however, her pain seemed to take hold. She was slouching more and breathing more quickly.

"Jane… Let me help you." Tiberius offered and the fact that she let him undress her like a child was more telling to how tired and in pain she really was. He stripped her down to her under clothes and helped her walk to her bed.

Once she was securely lying down and trying to relax he made to move away. "Stay." She said as she grabbed for his hand to try and physically prevent him from leaving.

The gesture did something strange to his chest and he nodded, "Let me get changed and I'll be right back." He said while the tightness in her eyes making him hurry through getting his armor off and the pants he reserved for sleeping on. He picked up her armor and placed it on her dresser before sliding in to bed next to her.

She was colder than he anticipated and his breath caught as she pressed herself along his side, her forehead against his chest. It was strange, but not in a bad way. She warmed up quickly to his temperature and he turned to wrap his arms around her in order to secure her to him.

She did relax then, clinging to him for comfort while she allowed herself drift into a soft, recuperative sleep. He pressed his lip plates to the top of her head and inhaled her scent while he started to tire. "Never do that to me again." He demanded as his eyes closed and sleep claimed him.


	6. The Beginning of All Things

Jane was reluctant to wake up, the hard warm body next to her was entirely too comfortable to lean against. It felt like a warm wall and smelled like gun oil and something like tea. She instantly decided that she loved it and she burrowed her face deeper between the body and her pillow.

She felt arms tighten around her and heard a murmur of sleepy pleasure from above her head. It took her a minute to gain her bearings and slowly she remembered asking Tiberius to stay with her last night. She blushed furiously at her own actions, but she couldn't bring herself to regret them; especially not when he was so protectively holding her.

Against her better judgment she started to stroke her hand over his chest and stomach. Much like a human, she saw the plated muscle bunch a bit as she found the soft hide in between his hard plates. She must be a bit of a deviant because she always loved the way the plates felt against her skin – someone so obviously built to be an apex predator tenderly, or not so tenderly, enjoying her body made her skin prickle with excitement.

Her own excitement must have bled over to him because she felt his fingers drag over her skin a second later. She tilted her head up to make eye contact with the no longer sleeping turian.

"Hi," was all she said. She couldn't think of anything else to say that would really encompass what she was feeling other than a simple greeting.

He chuckled at her and squeezed her more firmly against him as he stretched himself out a bit. It felt good waking up to her. He actually couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well. He was uncomfortable in one way, however, and her finger play over his stomach and waist was not helping.

He reluctantly stopped her hand on his waist by covering it with his own, but he didn't remove it.

"If you don't stop that, I refuse to be held responsible for the consequences." He joked lightly, but it was only a half joke. She was driving him wild with her soft little caresses and he was so hard up for her already that it was just adding to the fire.

She blushed a bit and smiled coyly. "Is that so?" she asked as she wiggled her other hand free and used it to tease him further, coaxing a groan through his throat.

"Jane, seriously, you're in no condition…" He tried to reason, but she was having none of it. "Yes I am, I slept it off, I'm fine." She countered as she deftly pushed her body against his and rolled him onto his back with her sitting on his stomach.

He ran his hand over the bandage on her stomach, noting that there was hardly any blood bleeding through. He had forgotten, somehow, that she was mostly unclothed in bed next to him and no amount of will power was going to keep his plates from shifting and his member emerging.

She looked glorious straddling him the way she was, her back arched slightly so that she could rub herself against him in a deliciously maddening way. He dropped his head back against the pillows then, careful of his fringe but his sensibilities were quickly dwindling.

She ran her nails over the flesh on the inside of his cowl and he gripped her waist firmly. "Ooh, Jane." was about all he could manage to say as she leaned over to lick along his jaw. He'd never had someone be so bold with him, her confidence adding fuel to his already outrageous fire.

He was about ready to flip them and pin her to the bed when he saw her scoot back a bit, pull her underwear to the side, and slide over him. His eyes felt like they were bulging out of his skull as he sucked in breath after shocked breath.

Spirits it's so warm and slick! He thought as his hips raised subconsciously to meet hers. Once she was fully seated she moaned and closed her eyes. He felt her muscles grab his member and he nearly came right there.

He'd never been with a human before and now he felt like he had severely missed out. Now he had his own human, and mark his words, she was his. He somehow found the wherewithal to sit himself upright and pull his legs in, mindful of his spurs. In this position she was cradled between his legs, her legs wrapped around his waist, and they were chest to chest.

It was the most intimate sexual position the turians had. He thrust his hips up to meet hers as they set a slow and exploratory pace. He found he was unable to stop touching her, his hands roaming over her body as he worshiped her with his own.

She returned every gesture in kind, their ability to sense the other's wants and desires translating spectacularly from the battlefield to the bedroom.

He couldn't stop touching her, tasting her. His tongue running over her collar bone and neck. Everything about her was so new, so velvety soft. He realized that he probably wouldn't ever be satisfied with just one time with her. He needed to convince her to be his mate with every fiber of his being.

Luckily, they would have countless hours together for him to plead his case.

He felt himself drawing closer to climax and if her moans were any indication as was she. He rotated his hips a bit so the pressure of him would hit her in different ways. Her lust-filled moan told him everything he needed and he continued to set a brutal pace.

When she did finally reach her climax her muscles tensed all around him and he couldn't help following her. He thrust in to her a few more times before moaning her name as he spilled inside of her.

The aftermath was still filled with touching and licking, her mouth exploring his neck and cowl and his finding places behind her ears that made her giggle.

Their euphoric state was quickly replaced by a more playful attitude as he learned what being ticklish meant and took full advantage of it.

He wanted to take her again but saw the way she flinched a bit when she tensed her abdomen too much and distracted himself by offering to make them some food.

Sparatus would be back within the day and he wanted to make sure she did actually relax at some point. Unfortunately for him, she had other plans. Once they had finished their lunch her flirting had started anew and with more vigor.

He was ashamed to say that he could not resist her no matter how much goodwill was in the gesture. They were naked and in bed again within the hour and exhausted again within four.

She was propped up against his chest in a half asleep state when they finally actually talked to one another about something other than bed speak.

"So… I don't want to sound too bold here, but is this going to be one of those things where you go back to your own room after?" She felt bad bringing it up, but it was an important question to her.

He tensed a bit, he had never actually had a long-term and serious relationship before. He always liked to think of himself a little like Blasto… A woman at every port kind of guy. But that just didn't fit with her and what he wanted from her.

He knew she wanted to be serious if they were going to continue, and in truth he wanted it too, but he didn't want to scare her with the intensity of his emotions. Turians didn't really do the whole mate thing halfway.

"No, I think I'll stay in your room. It smells better." He said as if it were the most obvious thing. She stared at him for a minute before huffing out a breath. "Ass, you were planning that from the start."

He laughed and pulled her closer against him, "Nah, not from the very start… Maybe a few days in. Definitely by the time I saw you do that sexy little number up on that beam in the rec room." She turned her head to bite at the unplated skin on his under arm.

"Ow! Hey, watch those things! Spirits, you're a feisty little killer, aren't you?" He said with mock fear as he tried to push her away. Instead of easily agreeing, she clung against him as best she could. She avoided being tossed off for a good three minutes before her stomach cramped and she was dislodged with a groan.

"Jane! Spirits, I'm sorry!" He stated as he fussed over her. Everything Jane needed to know was in the look in his eyes when he made her lie still so he could examine her to make sure he hadn't ripped open her stitches. It was not the first time he had deemed it necessary to do so and each time her heart warmed a little more.

They spent the rest of the morning discussing their respective childhoods. Tiberius had come from a standard colonial family. Jane's initial assumption had been correct and he came from a colony that specialized in civil services, including C-Sec and spectres. His mother had been a police officer and his father was a detective. They were both still alive with his younger brother, Destius.

She relayed her life as it was, not that anyone didn't already know it. She grew up an orphan and was a member of the Tenth Street Reds, a gang in New York on Earth. She had started stripping as a part of the Red's red light specialty troupe "Red's Dolls". She was a particular favorite, even though she was underage for most of her career. That part was left out of all of the history books. She was found by a then Lieutenant Anderson who had convinced her to join the Alliance Navy instead. She had excelled at infiltration and quickly progressed through the ranks and yadda yadda.

He knew most of the story but had enjoyed hearing it out of her mouth, and she was more candid with him than in any other interviews. He could ask the questions he really wanted to and gloss over the stuff that was well-known.

By the time Sparatus had arrived and come to check on them, they had moved to the couch to watch some vids. Tiberius was sitting lazily with one ankle propped up on his knee and Jane curled in to his side. They didn't bother moving to greet Sparatus, choosing this as their "coming out" statement.

Tiberius and Jane both noted that their boss looked entirely too pleased with himself once he got over his initial shock. "Oh good, no more of those sickeningly obvious stares. I can't even see your faces and I knew what you two were doing. Disgusting. Now you can do it in private, like adults." He chuckled at his own joke and waved the subject away.

"Anyways, we have reports of some mercenary activity in the Traverse. We are sending the Valern's two to go after them so Jane, you'll be with Valern," Jane crinkled her nose a bit at this, "and Tiberius you'll be with me."

Sparatus raised a brow plate at Jane but said nothing else on her reaction. It was well known that Valern and Jane had not gotten along, but he knew she'd do her job just as well. Tiberius seemed irritated by a whole different subject. He kept glancing at Jane like she was going to disappear if she wasn't by his side.

So that's how it is, then. Sparatus thought to himself. It appeared that dating Jane Shepard was not something one undertook lightly. Tiberius had "mated" written all over his expression and subvocals. He was in deeper than even Sparatus would have suspected, what with his playboy reputation and all.

"As you both know, the Council doesn't have the pull it once did. Since the attack by the reapers more and more colonies are refusing to follow Council Law and some are even trying to remove the Council all together. One of Valern's guards thinks he may have an idea on where to find the mercenaries that seem to be behind most of the attacks and is going to investigate himself. The other guard is checking out another lead. I need you two to do the work of two people while they're gone. I know I can count on you not to fuck this up."

With the pleasantries out of the way, both guards went to get into their gear before separating for the day. Before they placed their masks they quickly brushed their foreheads together, ready to start the day.

Liara hadn't heard from Garrus since he disconnected their call and she was starting to get worried. Had he figured it out, was "Oya" actually Shepard?

She waited what seemed like a reasonable amount of time before calling him again. He should still be on Palaven since the only transport that had left was one with not public registration – the Councilor's guards according to her sources.

One of them had been injured in the attack and Liara had frantically tried to find out which one. All she could get was that it was the female – so Oya. She had left without much assistance, however, so Liara's worries were quickly satisfied.

But that didn't explain what had happened to Garrus.

Liara tried to vid call him again and got no answer… So, being the good friend she was, she called again.

He answer on the fourth call with a groggy and cranky, "What?"

"Did you confront Oya?" She asked straight away, there was no use trying to be pleasant when he was not going to be. She had worked with him long enough to know that he was going to be a right asshole after being woken up.

"Oya?" He said back to her like he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Yes, Oya. The woman who has birthmarks and scars the same as Shepard. You remember Shepard right? The woman who saved the galaxy, warmed your bed for a few years, supposedly dead? Goddess Garrus, how much did you drink?"

Garrus was quiet for a solid two minutes before speaking again and Liara had to check her omni-tool to make sure she was still connected to him.

"Liara, I don't remember any of this. I remember getting to the party last night and that was it… Are you sure you didn't dream this?" He asked with a tone of concern – for her.

"Garrus, check your omni, the data packet I sent you last night should still be there." The frustration she was feeling was easily heard in her tone, but there was also a hint of concern. Had Garrus started using drugs? She mused to herself and started to multitask by searching his purchase history.

He was silent again as he sifted through his tool to find the packet in question. Liara knew she had him when she heard his breath hitch.

"Is this… Could it be?" He asked, trying to make eye contact with the busy asari over the line.

"The more I think about it the more I think it has to be. Eight spectres had gone missing, some were killed in ways that wouldn't leave a body, the year before the Elite Guard was announced. It's not that much of a stretch to assume that the Council had them fake their deaths or conveniently dropped off the radar just so they can start them again under anonymous names. From what I read on Oya, she has the same tenacity and prowess and is highly regarded even among the Guard. Her partner, Stryder, is much the same, even for a turian biotic."

"Why can't I remember this, Liara? I didn't drink anything last night and I just had my omni run a diagnostic on me and I have no traces of alcohol."

Liara stopped typing and looked at her friend. "Do you take any drugs, Garrus?" She asked, trying to sound bored but knowing he wouldn't react well anyways.

"Spirits, no Liara! I'm not some young pup fresh into the galaxy. The only thing I'm taking is my headache meds."

"Headache meds? When did you start taking those?" Liara asked, never remembering reading anything about that in his files.

"I started getting really bad headaches when I started my Spectre evaluations. Quin had me see her doctor and I was prescribed Yolumetrin – it helps to relieve the neural tension or something." He said matter-of-factly, but with a weird undertone, like he was told to say that.

"Garrus, Yolumetrin isn't a real medication. I can't find any records of it being produced or studied." Liara said concerned, her focus immediately shifting from finding Shepard to figuring out what was going on with Garrus.

"Garrus, can you meet me on the Citadel in a few days?" She asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. If this medicine was causing him to forget about something as big as finding Shepard than she wanted to figure out why he was being administered it.

Quinela was the number one suspect, but it could also just be her doctor was corrupted. She didn't know and wouldn't know until she was able to study him in person.

"I'm going to be on the Citadel in thirteen days. I'll meet you at the Presidium Café around 1200." He said resolutely and she watched as he plugged it in to his omni-tool as well to ensure he didn't forget.

Before she disconnected, he asked her a simple question, "Do you think Jane is really alive?" To which she just nodded.

She was sure, that Jane was safe while Garrus was most definitely not.


	7. Truth

Liara was impatiently waiting for Garrus at the café for nearly twenty minutes before he finally showed up.

He looked horrible. His armor was unpolished and he looked like he hadn't really eaten since their call. She was surprised to see him amble in under his own power and flop into the chair before her.

"Garrus… Have you taken the pills again?" She asked, pretty sure the answer was a resounding no based on how he looked.

He shook his head in response, "No… I had headaches for the first few days but now I just feel… Spent. What is this stuff, Liara? I've never heard of a legal medicine having this kind of withdrawal response before…" He asked with real concern lacing his voice.

Garrus couldn't believe that this was happening to him. He thought he loved Quin, was planning on asking her to mate with him, but the longer that he was off the meds the less and less he felt that way about her.

He couldn't understand why he ever thought getting involved in her was a good idea, especially over Jane. He had left Jane alone for too long… He wanted to be a Spectre so he could take care of her, he wanted to make her proud and do something instead of moping around waiting for her to wake up. Instead he had betrayed his feelings and her trust.

Spirits, what have I done? He kept asking himself. He remembered having similar thoughts before, but Quin would always come and give him something to drink and let him talk about his feelings until he forgot why he was upset.

He had ignored five calls from Quin in the past few days, he wanted to remember the data package the Liara had sent him. He wanted to remember to meet her for lunch, he wanted to find out if there was a chance that Jane was alive.

Liara wasted no time in taking a blood sample from Garrus to field test for the suspected drug. She added the testing strip to the vial and shook it for a bit, waiting for the test to complete. She kept an eye on Garrus as his eyes slipped in and out of focus.

"Hmm positive… I was afraid as much. This is a similar compound to what Dr. Lawson was experimenting with on the Sanctuary, remember? It was one of the earlier compounds used to try and control the Cerberus troops before they found the Reaper code. The chemical delivery method is common among pharmaceutical companies based out of Noveria… I'll do more research to see if we can pinpoint who the buyer is… For now, I suggest you keep yourself hidden and do not contact Quinela until we know what's going on."

Garrus nodded with her words, it seemed harsh to just cut contact, but his mind seemed clear enough that it made sense for now. If he were honest with himself, when he was doubting that Jane could be alive, he felt the strong desire to contact Quin and just talk to her. He really didn't have a reason why it was so important to him, just that it was.

Garrus stumbled his way back to his hotel room after Liara tried to convince him to let her help. He refused and eventually he convinced her that he would be fine. Once in his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and searched the extranet for pictures of Jane. It was sad that he hadn't kept any for his own… He thought he had, but he must have deleted them at some point. His favorite one of them in bed, it was her with her face pressed against his neck and a smile on her face while she looked sideways at the camera, was missing as well. He didn't remember ever deleting it and his heart sunk that he could have been convinced to.

Suddenly a thought entered his brain, unbidden but necessary. He needed to meet with Sparatus' guard Oya. He needed to talk to her, see if she was Jane. Then he could take more pictures. He needed to see her more than he needed anything else right at the moment.

He struggled to stand and ambled his way out of his room and out of the hotel.

Elsewhere on the Citadel, Oya and Stryder were lounging in Sparatus' office as the Councilor went through his messages and completed his work for the day.

"I have heard that there seemed to be some suspicious activity going on in docking bay D15. I think you two should check it out when we are done here. I have a meeting with Tevos and I have informed her that you two would be unavailable to guard, so her own guards are going to pull the duty."

They both nodded at Sparatus before Oya spoke up, "What kind of activity are we to expect? Smuggling, or something more in line with the attacks?"

"Strange persons and ships, everything checks out from a paperwork standpoint, but I want someone to board the ships undetected and take a deeper look in to them. They have spectre access codes as a part of their docking requests but it's a generic code and nothing overly specific. If a spectre is involved I want to know which one."

Both nodded and started planning various routes of infiltration quietly. Eventually Sparatus had them escort him to Tevo's office before they were dismissed. Both wasted no time heading to the docking bay to scope out the ships in question. However, they didn't get far.

When they went to enter the elevator to head down to the docking bay, a turian on the ground stopped them in their tracks. He was propped against a wall with his head down. They could see the rise and fall of his chest, but he wasn't conscious – or wasn't lucid enough to be aware of how Stryder was trying to get his attention.

Oya crouched down in front of the passed out alien and reached her hand out to cup him by the chin to raise his head. Her blood ran cold as recognition soared through her veins.

"It's Vakarian." She said privately to Stryder. "We need to get him to a hospital." She added as Stryder nodded and they both hooked one of Garrus' arms over their shoulders to hoist him up to a semi-standing position. The angles were awkward due to the height difference between them, but it was easier than trying to carry him any other way.

The pair quickly veered towards the nearest hospital where they were met by an emergency team, thanks to a quick message Oya had sent ahead of them. The team took Vakarian and promised the guards updates. Stryder went to head back to the elevator but Oya found she couldn't move, her feet planted where they were and her eyes never leaving the door they had taken Vakarian through.

"Oya…" Stryders voice called over their private link, a tinge of sadness lacing his voice, "If you want to stay-" She turned abruptly and followed him in to the elevator. She was with Stryder; Vakarian would come later.

Before the elevator opened to the docking bay in question, Oya moved to stand in front of Stryder and pulled his head down to touch hers. They had helmets on, but the element of the emotion was there and he visibly relaxed.

"Let's go see what's going on with these ships, yeah?" Oya asked after half a second and Stryder answered calming with a responding "Yeah," all traces sadness gone from his voice. It was surprising to him how quickly she could reassure him. It was unrealistic for him to expect her to be completely over Vakarian, but she was with him now and she wasn't going anywhere. He knew that just as much as she did.

When they arrived at the docking bay, the ship was strangley vacant. No mercs, no signs of mercs, and no one guarding the vessel. Oya cloaked herself and explored the vessel for a good twenty minutes before completing her scans and meeting Stryder at his outlook post on top of some supply crates.

"Sparatus is right, this ship is weird. No signs of inhabitants, I can't find any secret compartments and the logs have been cleared. I downloaded them anyways and will work through a scrubbing software to try and mine any left behind data…"

Stryder nodded and relayed the information to Sparatus, also relaying the strange state in which they found Vakarian in. Sparatus ordered them back to Huerta Memorial to meet him while he met with Vakarian and said to for Oya to keep scrubbing the data files.

The ship left them uneasy as did the entire docking bay. It was strangely quiet. Usually when ships came in the docking bays would be teeming with people, some resupplying, and some crew members just ready to be off the ship, some more unsavory types trying to ply their wares to anyone looking for a little deviancy before shipping back out.

This bay had no one, not even the standard C-Sec officers; it was all too empty.

They met Sparatus at Tevo's office and escorted him down to the hospital. They had already gotten word back from the doctors working on Vakarian that he was awake and stable. They said he had been malnourished and severely dehydrated. It rubbed Oya the wrong wa. He had never been one to not take care of himself, if anything, he was almost too meticulous with personal health and hygiene. It was too out of character.

When Sparatus entered the hospital room, he had Stryder scan the room for any bugs. He wasn't sure what kind of information he would get from Vakarian, but he knew that it could possibly be something he didn't want to get out of this room. When the scans were done and Stryder gave the go ahead, Sparatus moved to speak.

Garrus beat the Councilor to his questions by posing a few of his own. He knew what the Councilor had Stryder do and Garrus couldn't help the words that came tumbling out of his mouth. He pointed at "Oya" as he spoke, "Before we start, Councilor, I want to talk to Jane. You and "Stryder" need to take a step outside."

All three of them stopped what they were doing. Garrus heard a faint growl escape from Stryder and felt his own growl rumble. He couldn't help the instinctive reaction he felt to fight for the woman he knew in his soul was rightfully his.

Sparatus looked at Garrus for a minute before confidently answering Garrus' request, "Vakarian, Jane Shepard has been dead for a while now. I would love to bring her back for you, however that it outside of my power." The condescending tone harshened the Councilor's words, but didn't anger him as much as the fact that he could smell her. In such close quarters even her suit couldn't keep the distinct scent of her away from him.

He snapped his head towards the Councilor, his hands gripping the bed and starting to tear at the sheets. "I know who she is, I can smell her and her medical records are identical to Jane's. Don't take me for an idiot!" He all but yelled, his instincts to just see her face were warring with his need to be right. He needed to be right more than anything else right now, he needed her to be alive. He could deal with the fact that he could smell Stryder all over her later.

"This isn't the place to discuss this." Sparatus finally caved. He was already typing up something to his fellow Council members as he spoke. "We will have you transported to the Guard's private apartments and there we will continue this discussion." Sparatus turned leaving no room for further arguments. Oya and Stryder followed him out, but Garrus did not miss the way Oya turned her head to glance at him as she left.

Just the small gesture eased his worries - she was Jane. He knew it. He had no other proof other than what Liara had said and what he knew from his own interactions with her – which was minimal – but he knew in his gut that it was her. He was finally thinking clearly again and his thoughts were all about her.

The transfer to the apartments was easy enough to coordinate. The medical staff assured Sparatus that Garrus would be fine now as long as he kept up on his fluids and meals and shouldn't have a relapse. They left him at the Rapid Transport station that led to the Council Chambers where he was greeted by Stryder. Stryder was never one to hold back an opinion or mince his words. But the short walk to their apartments seemed to stretch on forever in the tense silence.

The turian jerked his head indicating for Vakarian to follow him as he led him to the guarded piece of wall, removed his glove and motioned for Garrus to enter the hallway first. Stryder followed him in and motioned for him to enter the door labeled "Three". Garrus assumed he had struck a nerve with the other turian for demanding to see Oya – or Jane. They were a team designed to protect the Council members. Garrus knew how demanding he was. It didn't matter to him, he could have his Spectre status revoked at this point for all he cared he only needed to verify that Oya was Jane.

"Vakarian, I want you to know how unusual these circumstances are. We would be within our rights to make you disappear, but you have been a trusted friend to the Council as long as Shepard had been. You were a part of her team and therefore we are willing to put the same faith in you that we did her. I will tell you now that if this information leaves this room, I will destroy you and your family, do you understand?" Sparatus said with a glint of fire in his eye.

So Garrus was being trusted with something no others were? Good. He quickly decided that he would out Liara as his source – sort of. The Shadow Broker was still a major player in galactic politics, so to get information from "him" was still not unheard of.

"You want to know how I found out?" Garrus asked and Sparatus nodded. Oya shifted beside Sparatus and Stryder in turn behind Garrus. This was a security risk to not only Sparatus' team and Garrus recognized that.

"The Shadow Broker sent me Oya's medical files from when she was admitted into the hospital before she officially became a guard member. Had anyone else seen them, I doubt they would have made the connection… But given my history with Shepard, I recognized the similarities." He stated honestly, he didn't want the Councilor to think that this information would be spread around the galaxy, because it wouldn't. Liara and he had both agreed to keep it to themselves.

Sparatus nodded and motioned to both of his guards. "Then, Garrus Vakarian, meet my guards. Jane Shepard and Tiberius Cretin."


	8. Reaction

**I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been reviewing! I love all of them (even the critics! It's nice to hear the adverse side of this so I can edit accordingly in the future!). Always a thank you to icyfreezerpop for editing me work and cancelling out my love of comas! **

* * *

Garrus quickly closed the gap between him and Jane, crushing her to his chest as he pressed his face against her neck. He inhaled the scent that was uniquely hers, Jasmine and gun oil. He loved her scent and it sent a warm tingle through his bloodstream. He had his mate in his arms again.

He took a step back to look in to her eyes, and had he been truly thinking he should have been prepared for her reaction.

A hand sailed through the air and connected roughly with the side of his face and mandible. He brought his own hand up to cover the stinging flesh and bone as he took another step back, "Jane, what the…" He started, but was unable to finish his sentence when he saw the look on Jane's face.

"How dare you! I was awake for three fucking weeks and you never sent a god damned message. You didn't even see fit to come to my own memorial because it was 'pointless' and now you act like you give a flying fuck!?" She raged at him, her hands gesturing angrily.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She demanded as he subconsciously went to reach for her again. She removed herself from temptation with a quick turn and marched into the bathroom, the lock quickly changing from green to red.

He stared at the door for a minute while he collected his thoughts. Had he been thinking, he might not have gone to her and forced his presence on her – he remembered everything he had done and said, though the logic behind it was muddled now that he was thinking for himself. He was raging internally over what to do; he needed to comfort his mate, prove to her that he loved her with every fiber of his being and it was an intrinsic bone-deep need coursing within him.

But, he also understood her reasoning and position. She had every right to be furious as she didn't know the situation. Moreover, she had moved on.

As he thought that, he turned his head slightly to look at Tiberius Cretin. He was an attractive turian, sure… And Garrus was even happy that she had chosen someone he would consider worthy, but worth wasn't really all that comforting when he thought about them together. She was his mate and he would win her back.

He had to remind himself that now wasn't the time for posturing and competitions. He wouldn't fight for her yet. He would talk with Sparatus, get an in with her again, and work his way back in to her favor. He had enough to atone for and he wasn't about to add undue stress onto that list.

It made sense to him, as he thought it out. It was a logical plan and he knew he had to follow it, but part of him still wanted to rip Tiberius limb from limb and hack the door and show her what she meant to him.

He glanced once more at the door and did the hardest thing he could remember doing, he left her alone.

"I think we need to talk." He said to Sparatus, who simply nodded and gestured for him to follow him out of the apartment. Garrus followed quietly, not sparing Tiberius another glance.

Once outside the apartment Sparatus led him though a hallway and up a flight of stairs in to another apartment, this one apparently vacant.

"Vakarian, you no doubt have questions of your own, but I'll ask mine first. How the hell did you discover this?!" He gestured to the floor and presumably to the apartment below them.

Garrus contemplated on how to answer the Councilor. He could be honest, but he didn't want to out Liara. She was a good friend and it would be a disservice to her. Instead, he settled for a partial lie.

"The Shadow Broker contacted me and asked me if some x-rays and medical files looked like anyone I would know. They were only some pictures of old wounds and scars, so I told him no – that it looked like any other soldier. I lied. I instantly recognized the scars as being Jane's, I was with her for two years before the end of the Reaper Invasion, and of course I would recognize them. I asked him who they were of and he said your guard, Oya. I've been working my way back here ever since."

Sparatus' hands curled and unfurled as he talked, but nodded. "Do you think this is contained?" Sparatus asked, the undertones of the question clear. Garrus nodded his assurance. He knew it wouldn't get out publicly who Oya really was.

Sparatus sighed before opening himself up to questions with a simply swipe of his hand. He was still debating on what to do with Vakarian and waiting on a response from the other two Councilors on his proposal.

"Before I ask what in the hell is going on, I need to make a formal complaint… About my mentor and partner Quinela."

Sparatus was surprised and his mandibles twitched with such emotion, of all the ways for Vakarian to start this conversation – this was not what he expected. "What sort of complaint?"

"I have proof that she has been systematically drugging me and manipulating me to her own ends." He used his omni-tool to transmit the medical data that Liara had left with him as well as the drug used and its origin.

Sparatus looked over the file and his expression grew more and more outraged the more he read. Finally, he transmitted the data to someone – presumably the other members of the Council – and looked to Garrus.

"You're sure you are no longer under the effects of the drugs?" Garrus couldn't give an affirmative and simply sighed, "I don't know. I haven't felt the need to return to her company since I stopped taking them, I did have a bit of a withdrawl as if I was taking something like Red Sand – that's when Jane and Tiberius found me. Overall I can say I feel like I wouldn't go back to her command, but I can't say for certain."

Sparatus nodded again, "Well, I appreciate your candid answer. We will run our own tests on you. I guess that explains why you had left Shepard to begin with, eh? I was with you when you said you wanted to become a spectre partially because it would allow you two to continue working together. Don't get me wrong, had you not displayed other qualities that we look for in a spectre I would have turned you down flat, but you were a good soldier and a good leader. I was surprised when you had officially started to romantically partner with Quinela and I have to admit that I am glad my initial assessment of you was not wrong."

The Councilor moved to lean against the kitchen counter as he spoke, his words more candid that Garrus was used to. "I'm not going to lie, it's not going to be easy. Those two are pretty close. But, I may have a way for you to stay 'in-the-loop' as it is. We've found that two guards each is not necessarily enough and we were discussing adding a few more guards to increase security while we send some people out on missions. I am not opposed to offering you one of the three slots we're opening, but I need a commitment from you that you will not intentionally cause strife between Tiberius and Jane. They are a good team and I would hate to see that suffer due to personal issues."

It was a rather hefty "if" that was being placed on Garrus, but he was willing to deal with the constraints. He had no intention of overtly causing issues between the two of them, he was just going to remind Jane every chance he got of what they had. He just needed to get past her anger and that was something that was not easily done – Jane Shepard did not let go of personal grudges easily.

"Sir, if I may request, I would like for you to make what I said about my circumstances public. It wouldn't do to hide it from the team and it would make them more aware should anything strange start to happen with me."

Sparatus nodded and sent himself a memo to type up the briefing to be sent to the teams. "Good, then this will be your apartment for now. We can decorate it as you see fit. You are not to have any guests here, if you feel the need for personal 'friends' then get a hotel. With that being said, we haven't decided whether to keep your identity a secret yet or not… So for now, keep your participation in the Guard to yourself."

Garrus nodded and watched as the Councilor left. He slowly made his way around the apartment before taking his armor off and falling on the bed. This day had not gone as planned, but the situation as still salvageable and he would work his damnest to make sure Jane was by his side again.

As the Councilor and Vakarian left, Tiberius walked over to the bathroom door. He placed his hand against it as he wondered what to do. He couldn't lie, when she slapped Vakarian his heart had calmed. He was beside himself for a few seconds as Sparatus introduced them to him. If there was one thing he wished he could unsee it would be the shock, horror and comfort that briefly flashed in Jane's eyes when Vakarian held her.

But then she had struck him, and told him to leave. Tiberius felt he could breathe after that and turned the rest of his uncomfortable feelings back on Vakarian. How dare the man care again so suddenly? Tiberius wasn't about to let Jane go without a fight and he had smelled the hormones radiating off of Vakarian as he walked out.

Pompous ass.

Tiberius went in to the bedroom and removed his armor before going back to the bathroom and worked on hacking the door. The moment the door flashed green again he stepped into the choking steam that was encasing the room.

It didn't take him long to find Jane sitting naked on the shower floor, her skin red from the heat of the water. He kicked a few pieces of her armor out of his way as he stripped his way to her. The water was even hot to him, so he reached up and turned the nob to a more reasonable temperature.

He didn't know what to say to her and decided that it would probably be best if nothing was said. Instead, he sat next to her and pulled her against his chest. He eventually maneuvered her so she was sitting between his propped up legs, his arms around her waist and her head resting on his chest.

She didn't protest at all and he started to worry again until he felt her hands cover his own. She dropped her chin to her chest and sighed loudly.

"That was… Unexpected." Was all she said, her voice gravelly with disuse. "Mmm… Yes it was, though I did like the way you put your close quarter combat skills to use." He tried to joke back with her, earning himself a soft chuckle.

She turned and wrapped her own legs around his waist as she stared up at him. "I'm not going anywhere." She said with a hint of self-determination, like she was telling herself it as much as him. It made him feel less like a school-boy; she didn't know how to act either.

"I never thought you would." He replied as he leaned down to press his forehead against hers, a soft chuckle bouncing her chest. "Liar." Was all she said, their attention redirected from talking towards action as they reminded each other of just how committed they were.

Elsewhere on the Citadel, Spectre Quinela paced the dark warehouse. She hadn't heard from Garrus since she called him after the attack on Palaven. Her unsuccessful attack. She had tried to call him multiple times and ended up simply having one of her men tail him as he made his way back to the Citadel.

What is he thinking? She raged at herself as multiple scenarios ran through her head. He had been in contact with his old friend, Liara T'Soni; though Quinela couldn't listen in on their conversations because Ms. T'Soni had abnormally complex encryptions on her communications. He had met her at the Presidium Café as well, and she had taken a sample of his blood.

Quinela could only assume that her lover had been compromised – though she wasn't too worried about it. It could work to her advantage. She had wanted to attack the Council and now she could. He had been taken to the Elite Guard's complex and she assumed he was being interrogated there. If he had weaned himself off of the drugs enough to be coherent, he would plead his case to Councilor Sparatus and could earn their trust.

Garrus Vakarian was a predictable character so she felt with a certain amount of certainty that she could rely on him to help her when he thought himself hindering her. Besides, she could enact her whole plan and get him back all in one fell swoop.

There was nothing but honor keeping him at the Council's side and she had been slowly whittling away at that for years now. No, he would understand her regime change. He had said as much before she had drugged him that the Council needed to change.

She believed that the Council was too stuck in its' ways. It was the entire reason the reapers had hit them so hard to begin with. They had been warned for years, but the damned asari, thought they knew best and kept everything at the status quo.

No more would the asari and salarians be in charge. The turians were the best force to take control, order and control were their specialties after all. The humans… well, they could stay as advisors and cannon fodder, and they had proved to be at least good for that. The salarians could keep on with their science projects… and the asari could continue to be the entertainment of the galaxy, since most were only good for shaking their asses in sleazy bars.

No, the turians would bring order to the galaxy and she would be their leader. She had seen war, she knew what it took to reign everyone in. She had no qualms about costing lives in the short run to create galactic stability in the long run.

She wasn't the only one that felt that way, either. She had a small private army of soldiers from all different species who agreed with her. Most were soldiers who had become disillusioned with the Council after the reapers had started attacking. All had lost people because of the Council's ineptitude and all were ready for a change.

She would be that change. She would bring the hellfire that Council Space so desperately needed.


	9. Pain

Garrus had been given approval to leave the apartment as long as he kept to the Guard's common areas. He was under strict orders that were he to discover any of the other Guard's identities that he wasn't to ever call them by anything other than their code names. It was easy for him for everyone except for Jane. He couldn't reconcile her new self with her old – they were apparently quite different.

Where Jane had been loud and boisterous, Oya was not. She was more reserved in front of groups, her presence no longer as commanding. She still had the aura of leadership and command, but it was more subtle. The others followed her lead without her having to give any orders; it was just natural for them.

He also noticed that when other members of the Guard seemed to have problems, she did not volunteer herself to help them as she once would. He wasn't sure if that was simply because they had earlier agreed that she wouldn't help, or if she simply never offered. He couldn't fathom her not offering, but something Stryder had said in passing made him think that it was the latter.

Stryder had noticed Garrus' surprise when one of the asari guards had been upset and speaking to the group about her daughter and how she had gotten herself into trouble and the Guard was upset that she couldn't do anything about it. Oya just patted her hand compassionately and then walked out of the room.

Stryder moved to follow her and made the offhand comment, "She's spent her life helping others and got jack shit for it." It's wasn't some profound statement, but Garrus caught the message loud and clear. She had been used up by her friends and had been abandoned when she needed them and was no longer going to offer herself up that way anymore.

It wasn't until Garrus had joined Stryder and Jane at the gym that he truly realized how much he didn't know about his one-time lover. Stryder was lifting weights while music blared from the tumbling room. He asked what the heck the noise was when Stryder put down his weights and walked over to him.

"Have you ever seen Oya dance?" He asked. Stryder refused to refer to her as Jane to him, only referring to her as her call name. Garrus was never sure if it was because he was trying to help him get used to calling her that, or if he simply didn't feel he was worthy of calling her by her real name.

"Dance? Jane never danced, at least not well." He remembered her stuttered two-step fondly and how they all ribbed her for it regularly. She did do exercises in the shuttle bay that hinted at better coordination than she produced on the dance floor, but she never actually danced well.

"Mmm, something tells me you didn't know her as well as you thought you did." Stryder said softly as Garrus snapped his head to the other turian. He was about to argue the point when Stryder gestured to the tumbling room.

Garrus' curiosity won out over his burst of rage as he peered around the corner. He wasn't expecting to see anything revelation inspiring and was fully prepared to go back in to the weight room and belt Stryder in the face for the insult.

Instead he was met with a sight he had never thought he would see. Sure enough, it was Jane… Dancing. The music he recognized as a classical mix, instruments with synthesized beats added to it. She was gracefully moving about the room, going up on her toes and spinning. He recognized the dance as "ballet". Jane had watched some performances on her private vid screen when she still had the Normandy.

Jane had never once insinuated that she could dance, especially not like that. She had always said that she never liked being on public display and he always assumed it was because of her childhood with the Reds. She had alluded that she was used for entertainment purposes – he just never assumed dancing was one of those purposes.

He truly didn't know her as well as he had thought and that scared him. Had she never been comfortable around him enough to share herself like this? Had there simply never been an opportunity? In truth he had never seen her in a gym by herself, with free use of the facilities as she did here. Maybe she would have shown him had the circumstances been right, but that didn't explain why she never told him at least.

They had been talking about adopting kids, about a life together, but somehow it didn't seem as tangible as her showing Stryder a part of herself that Garrus never saw. For the first time since he had reinserted himself in Jane's life he felt like he might not actually get her back. That she had given herself so completely to someone else that he had no hopes of winning her back.

The feeling quickly overwhelmed him and he knew that he needed to remove himself from the gym. Without a word he walked out and back up to his apartment. He had received his order of brandy earlier in the day and he felt it was high time that he inundated himself with the alcohol.

Stryder watched the emotions play over Vakarian's face. He had talked with Jane and knew that she hadn't told anyone the details of her past, but he didn't know how Vakarian would react to learning that maybe he didn't know everything about Jane Shepard. He had expected more anger directed at him for the way he rubbed it in his face, but instead Vakarian just walked out of the gym.

Stryder almost felt bad for him… Almost. It wasn't a unique situation for two turians to want to mate with the same woman; in fact it was quite a frequent occurrence. The only strange factor in this situation was that the woman was a human, but their bodies weren't differentiating her from any other turian. They were both releasing their hormones as if she could read them and were both challenging one another any chance they got.

Stryder was playing for keeps with Jane and he knew that he had the upper hand at the moment. The only thing he was worried about was that Jane seemed to be warming up to Vakarian again. Ever since Sparatus sent out the notice informing them of Vakarian's situation with Quinela and it had warmed some of the frost between them.

That wasn't to say that it was all flowers and sweets between them, she simply wasn't being as dismissive as she had originally been. She had been including him in conversations more and more and it was starting to raise Stryder's hackles.

Had he more time before Vakarian's grand re-entrance he would have simply proposed to Jane already… But, they hadn't been dating that long and he wasn't sure she would accept with this new development.

Jane was nothing if not careful. She still had deep feelings for Vakarian and Stryder couldn't fault her for that. Hell, had he been in a similar situation he doubted that he would have been able to make the decree that he wasn't going anywhere. But she had, so he took a measure of comfort in that.

He knew that things would be up in the air until she worked through her own feelings and he just needed to ensure that he was there for her. She had been ready to marry Vakarian, she had wanted to, and he had been her family since she was resurrected by Cerberus. It was hard not to forgive family when you found out their wrongs weren't their fault.

He was thinking himself into a small depression and simply decided to act on his need. He strode confidently out of the weight room and caught her mid-spin. He quickly pressed his forehead to hers and smiled when he heard her answering peaceful sigh. This was where he belonged and he would be damned if someone else was going to remove him from her side.

Jane didn't really know what to think of the situation as it stood. She had been furious with Garrus when he stalked right up to her and touched her as if nothing had happened, but then she read Sparatus' message about the circumstances in which Garrus had found herself and she found her anger dissipated quite a bit.

She couldn't fault him for what had happened, but it didn't change that it had happened. She had initially felt bad for not trusting him, but she knew that she was working off of the same knowledge as everyone else and everyone had assumed he had moved on. She couldn't be angry about that, just as she couldn't fault her own reaction and her own attempt to move on.

If she were honest, she loved both Garrus and Tiberius. She loved them in different ways and she was certain that she would be happy with either… But, she couldn't have both of them and she was still hurt by what Garrus had done. Intentions aside, she saw the news reels, she saw the pictures of him with Quinela and they had hurt her deeply.

_Maybe this is a sign that I need to further move on from my old life?_ She thought to herself. Maybe she just needed to cut the ties and let Garrus find love with someone who wouldn't have the baggage she had.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Tiberius stopped her mid-dance and pressed his head to hers. She felt the relief and comfort from the gesture and felt herself relax into his embrace. He knew more about her than anyone else had and cared for her regardless. Besides, she wasn't sure how committed Tiberius was to her, it wasn't a conversation they had engaged in yet.

She knew that he wanted her now, and that he was committed to her for now, but the extent of that commitment was still unspoken. She liked it that way, it was less pressure on her to work through her emotions and she had a feeling Tiberius had left it that way on purpose just for that reason.

"I lo…" She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off from a ping to their omni-tools. There was a lead on the merc teams that had been attacking the Council and they were given separate assignments to investigate.

They smiled at one another and she kissed him in her human fashion before they separated and left to get ready for their missions.

Oya worked her way through the docking bay crowds easily, her cloak keeping her from sight and all she had to do was dodge unsuspecting travelers. The ship in question had similar designs to the one she and Stryder had investigated earlier in the week and it raised her suspicions.

This time there were guards outside of the airlock and they were keenly watching the maintenance and delivery crews. She silently walked right up and past them to see if she could get on to the ship unseen. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Even with the guards the door was sealed and there were no obvious maintenance passages near the hatch. Moreover, the guards were being guarded themselves by a security camera.

She could disable the camera and then the guards, but she would need a quick exit route on to the ship and she couldn't spot one from where she stood. Instead, she propped herself behind the guards and listened in on their conversation.

"The boss said she had something to do and then she was going to need the ship ready for a quick departure, do you think we'll have to shoot anyone?" Guard one, a hanar said to two, a krogan. Guard two grunted his reply, "I doubt it. You know the boss doesn't like to draw attention to us unless it's absolutely necessary. We'll probably just need to clear a path as she gets back to the ship. She said this was going to be a big hit, so I think she'll want to clear Citadel space before anyone can point a finger."

For some reason Oya's skin rose in goosebumps as she listened to the conversation. So they were here to assassinate someone. She wondered if they were going to go after the entire Council.

"Stryder, they're here for a hit. I've sent word to Sparatus." She buzzed through their private comm as she started to move away from the ship. She could delay their boss' movement back towards the ship but she needed to figure out what she was going to do in the meantime.

"Yeah, I'm following a contingent of them headed towards the warehouse district. One female turian surrounded by two krogan, I can't see their faces. I'm going to continue to tail them."

He was sounding cocky and it added to her discomfort. "I'm going to join you, I've sent word to Sparatus so he'll get the additional Guards and have everyone secure. I don't like this." She was already rushing through the Citadel as she spoke. She heard him click off his comm and she pushed herself faster.

He wasn't arguing with her about them not staying split up as he would normally do, so she knew that he was feeling off about the situation as well. Vakarian would have Sparatus' back and she could focus on having Stryder's.

She really had very little clue on where she was going except for Warehouse District and she was cursing Stryder for not giving her a bay number before he logged off. She was going to have to individually search each warehouse for any signs of him since she couldn't risk an omni-ping giving his presence away to the group he was following.

She had just cleared the commerce floors of the Citadel and was about to enter the warehouse airlock when her omni-tool pinged with an emergency beacon. Her heart stopped the moment she recognized who's beacon code it was – it was Stryder's.

There were no life readings accompanying the signal and that meant that either there were no signs to report or it was malfunctioning. She was praying to every God she had ever heard of that it was malfunctioning.

She forgot her cloak as she raced through the corridors, her target on the other side of the warehouse. _Of course it isn't close!_ She thought angrily to herself. She got notice that the backup teams were already on route and that a medical team was closely following them. She sent one of the backup teams to cover the ship in the docking bay as she realized that this was probably the hit they were talking about.

Take down one of the Elite Guard and publish who it was. It was a perfect way to discredit the Council by accusing them of keeping secrets, keeping the best of the best in regards to Spectres to themselves. She hopes and prayed that she was wrong, but it's what she would do had she been so inclined.

She finally reached the door and had to hack her way through, wasting precious minutes breaking through the door's digital locks. Once through it didn't take her long to spy her fallen partner and even less time for her horror to become reality.

His mask had been forcibly removed and his eyes were opened halfway. He was lying in a growing pool of blue and there was a large, gaping hole in the torso of his armor. She absently thought that they had to be close and the weapon had to have been a very high caliber to break through his shields so quickly. They would have had to have hit him on the first shot for him not to throw a barrier and find cover. They knew how he fought, which meant they had been watching him.

Jane couldn't breathe right and she knew her own suit would soon send off a warning for elevated blood pressure and limited oxygen, but she didn't give a damn. All she could focus on was that Tiberius was dead. She wasn't fast enough and didn't get there in time. She had lost someone else, someone wholly more important to her than anyone she had lost before.

Her screams were silenced by her helmet, but her agony could still be witnessed in the way she fell to her knees and crawled to Tiberius' body. She was covered in his blood by the time she pulled his head up in to her lap and cradled his body best she could.

_This is a nightmare, it isn't real._ She chanted to herself over and over again, she wouldn't let herself believe this was really happening. Not now, not ever.

The backup team found her like that and quickly sent live feed to Sparatus. He couldn't help the keen of remorse and pain escape into the air that alerted his comrades to the situation. Tevos was the first to react by placing her hand on his shoulder. She knew how close Oya and Stryder were and knew that this was a huge blow to Oya as well as the Elite Guard.

Garrus' attention was drawn away from watching the exits to the omni-vid screen Sparatus' attention was drawn too. He saw Oya's prone form clutching at a body swathed in blue. It was then that Sparatus activated the private comm through the video and they could all hear the tearful, "No, no" that Oya kept reciting.

The only thing Garrus felt was burning rage at whoever had killed Stryder. Yes, he had wanted to oust the man from Jane's side, but not kill him and certainly not break her in the process. He had never witnessed her react the way she was now to a teammate's death and he was scared that this may break her fully. All he could think was, "Not now, not this way. I didn't want it to be this way."


	10. Broken

Stryder had noticed his target right where they were supposed to be. He had heard about a suspicious party showing up in the Lower Wards and he was sent to investigate them. It was a female turian with a pair of krogan flanking her.

Nothing too unusual by Citadel standards, especially in the Wards, but their faces were completely covered. For krogan, that wasn't unusual either, but the female turian had gone to great pains to make her gender noticeable, but keeping any identifying features completely hidden from sight.

Even that wouldn't be enough to garner more than a C-Sec stop had it not been for the symbol on their collective armor. It was the same that was worn by the group that had attacked the party on Palaven.

Stryder kept his distance from them, simply content to follow them until they reached their destination. He absently wondered what Oya had found on her own search, he hadn't heard from her in a while – not that silence from her was unusual while they were on separate missions.

He was just on edge about her since Vakarian had shown up a few weeks ago. He and Vakarian had not gotten along well, obviously, and Jane had noticed and asked him to tone it down. Hell, she had caught them arguing on more than one occasion and had gone all "Commander Shepard" on them.

It was a slight turn on to Stryder, watching her get all commanding. Vakarian had conceded like a reprimanded pup, and Stryder agreed, but he was the one following her home while Vakarian got left out in the cold.

It was a small consolation, Jane had been dreaming about Vakarian if the words she mumbled in her sleep was any indication. He wasn't too stressed about the dreams themselves – dreams were bound to happen and it wasn't something someone could control, but he was worried about her dreaming of the good times and remembering her feelings for him.

He had made it a point to try and seduce her on multiple occasions, usually whenever he was feeling less than adequate. He knew he hadn't proposed anything more permanent in their situation, but he felt like maybe it was time to try and step up their relationship.

Stryder had a couple seconds of well-deserved panic as he had momentarily lost focus. He quickly found his targets heading towards to Warehouse District and sighed in relief.

He needed to keep his head in the game otherwise he and Jane wouldn't have a relationship – he'd be kicked out of the Guards.

Oya broke comm silence then to inform him that, basically, the ship scouting was a bust and that she was uncomfortable with the situation. He relayed his own information and she stated that she was going to come to him. He told her where he was headed and cut the comm. She could figure out where he was, he wasn't expecting to be out of communication for long.

He just didn't need to have the temptation of talking to her again, he knew he'd get distracted again. He had the strong urge to simply flirt with her to throw her slightly off. Yeah, the mission was important, but he didn't feel like it was going to be any big revelation. Maybe catch some bad guys, go home, cook a cross-species fusion dish, make some love, and continue on with their lives.

Stryder wasn't counting on walking in to a seemingly abandoned warehouse where his targets had just entered. There were no other doors according to the schematic he pulled up and he walked to the center of the warehouse to get a better vantage point.

His omni-tool wasn't pulling up any life signs and he kicked the scans up a notch to see if anyone had cloaking tech activated. It was then that he realized he had made a monumental mistake and he quickly tried to shield himself.

Unfortunately it was too late, the hand cannon fired with obscene force and Stryder had the momentary thought of "modded" before he felt the searing pain rip through the lower portion of his chest. He was thrown back with the force of the blast and felt that he really had no inclination – or ability, to move.

He could feel the blood begin to drain from him and he moved his arm to reactivate his comm link when a heavy foot landed on his arm, pinning him.

"No, I don't think so turian." A krogan chuckled as the female moved towards him.

"Let us see that no-doubt handsome face of yours, Stryder." She purred as she kneeled and started working at the seals of his mask.

He wanted to have some witty come back, he wanted to try and fight them away and get himself to safety, but he knew it was too late. His vision was already splotchy by the time he felt his head wrenched side to side as she bodily tried to remove his mask.

It took a bit of finesse to remove his mask, he thought absently. He sighed a labored breath as the mask was pulled from his face. He couldn't even look at who was assaulting him, all he could think of was the future he would never get to have. Adopted babies and an old, cranky, human by his side.

He tried to laugh at the image, but the attempt stopped in his throat. His last breath came out with a gurgle and a small cough as everything faded to black.

The cleanup was fairly straight forward. They had to quarantine the area and remove the body without anyone unapproved witnessing any of the particulars. The hardest part was removing Oya from the scene as she seemed intent to stay with Stryder's body as long as possible.

She didn't react to anyone trying to talk to her or pry her away other than to increase her hold. Finally one of the medical professionals decided to sedate her. In her stupor she didn't notice when he pulled down her glove to stick the needle in to her hand. She didn't so much as tense as the clear liquid was pushed into her vein and the glove replaced.

They waited until she started to slump before attempting to pry her away again. She still tried to resist but the medicine made her resistance futile and eventually she was limp in the doctor's arms, the sedative taking its' full effect.

They cleaned the rest of the warehouse up without further issue and moved Stryder's body for incineration while they moved Oya to the small medical room in the Guard's wing. As it was, she was a risk to herself and others if she woke up disoriented, so they kept a steady drip of sedatives into her system so they could wake her in increments and judge her mental state before she was able to overpower them.

They left her out for the remainder of the day and waited until Sparatus was available to be with her when she woke. Sparatus insisted on Garrus being there as well, as additional moral support.

As it was, the ship and the group that Stryder had been following had not gotten away, but the leader had. They had the two krogan in interrogation, the ship was impounded, but the female turian must have planned for this. The information must have been purposely leaked so that they wouldn't notice her actual escape.

It was more bad news to add on to the shock of losing Tiberius and Sparatus was definiely not thrilled to be doling out this news to Jane. Both he and Garrus packed themselves in to the small room as the doctor slowly woke Jane up.

Both men were tense over what her mental state would be when she woke up, neither really looking forward to having to help restrain her if she was combative. Garrus in particular was warring with himself over the situation. It was abrupt, and more than a little suspicious. He hardly had any time around Jane and Tiberius before Tiberius had been killed, only two weeks in fact. He didn't know how to feel about the man's death other than remorse because of the way he was killed and the way Jane had reacted.

Garrus remembered a conflict that had arisen circumstantially between Tiberius and he that had initially left him furious with the other turian. It had led to them taking pot shots at one another for a few days until they made the mistake of arguing in front of Jane. She immediately donned her "disappointed Commander" mask and had shut them both down rather brutally… Though Tiberius still followed her as she walked away and Garrus was left standing alone.

Tiberius hadn't been cruel, Garrus had to admit, and he was just doing what any turian would when they were posturing for the affections of a woman. He was pointing out the differences in his relationship with Jane to Garrus' and if Garrus was being honest with himself, their relationship wasn't built in the fires of combat or under the ever looming threat of death. They had built their through long talks and working together in a completely different environment. Sure, they had seen their share of combat, but it wasn't the "balls to the wall" fighting that Jane had endured in her year with Cerberus and the following year fighting the reapers.

Garrus wasn't sure which foundation would be the best in the long run, which would demand a more solid relationship. He didn't much care now; he would still be there for her. But when he had to deal with the threat of competition it was a constant question in his mind.

Now I just have to be the one to help pick up the pieces. He felt guilty for that thought. He was relieved in a certain way – she was his. But, he didn't want her to be his because he was the only option left. Truthfully, he knew he wasn't her only option, but he felt like he had to work even harder to win her affections now. He wasn't just competing against another person; he was competing against a ghost. He was also competing against her prejudice over him and Quinela. As much as she said that she forgave him and understood, he knew that the images and vids she must have seen would be engrained in her mind for a long time.

He had resolved himself to walk through hell and back for her, if that's what it took. He would be what she needed when she needed it and not before. He wouldn't pressure her or act like she was his mate, per say. He would just be there to comfort her, to be a semblance of normal. He would endure the pain of knowing that she couldn't want what he needed, but that he could be what she needed.

He was pulled out of his internal revelry by a soft yet harsh intake of breath from the bed he and Sparatus were hosting vigil over. They both tensed again but were surprised when she just opened her eyes and looked at the faces in the room.

"It wasn't a dream?" She inquired, her voice still husky from her crying earlier. They both shook their heads and she nodded. She was unnaturally calm about everything and Garrus was about to breathe a sigh of relief until he saw her hands. She had them balled into fists and it looked like her nails were digging into her flesh.

She was struggling to maintain her calm veneer.

"Can I get up?" She asked again, her tone flatter than Garrus ever remembered hearing it and he winced as she spoke.

"Yes, but I suggest you be careful. You can go back to your room as long as you agree to be checked up on for the next twelve hours." The doctor answered, jotting down notes on his data pad. She grimaced at the stipulation, knowing that she was a high risk for self-harm in her state – at least from a medical standpoint.

She nodded and he signed some form that allowed her to leave unhindered. She stood, her legs shaky from the drugs, but she quickly regained her composure and looked to Sparatus.

"Who will be checking up on me?" She didn't make eye contact when she asked and Sparatus fidgeted a bit with the pressure of picking who would check on her. He didn't want to pick someone she didn't trust, it would make the situation worse for her to have to force a strong mask while she was weak. She was entitled to be weak once and a while and this was definitely one of those times.

He took a risk that she would be upset at his choice, he wasn't entirely sure what her relationship was with Vakarian, but the death of Tiberius could have changed it. They were both vying for her; she could take her anger out on the one left.

"Vakarian will, I will have your access panel programmed to allow him entrance." He wanted to suggest that Vakarian take the second room, but that was too much too soon. He would watch them for now. He already wanted to get her a new partner, but she needed time off to grieve. Depending on her reaction to Vakarian's presence over the next week he would decide if he needed to find her another partner or if he could shoe-horn Vakarian in to that role.

He knew she'd be itching to go after whoever was responsible for the attack on Tiberius, but he was apprehensive about putting her back in the field too quickly. Two weeks off would be a good start, he hoped it wouldn't be longer than that.

Thanks to Vakarian figuring out who Oya was, Sparatus was able to convince the rest of the Council to allow for more Guards to be recruited. It made it easier when one, or two, needed to be off the bench for an extended period.

Jane didn't argue with Sparatus' choice, and he wondered if that were a good or bad thing. He couldn't decide, but as she walked past the two of them without so much as a nod. Both were so worried about her mental state that neither commented on her lack of helmet. Sparatus swallowed hard and looked to Vakarian.

"She's going to need someone who knows her, someone who understands how she thinks and knows when to back off and when to be there." Sparatus explained. "I know things might be uncomfortable, but I need you to work through that." He added with a hint of steel in his voice. He didn't care if Jane and Garrus weren't getting along, this was more important. He needed her to be work-ready as soon as possible.

Garrus nodded and moved to follow Jane out. As much as Sparatus seemed to think that he would be uncomfortable with the situation, he wasn't. He was elated that he was chosen, though he understood Sparatus' warning – Jane might not be, all things considered.

He followed Jane at a decent enough distance that he wouldn't crowd her, but close enough to quickly approach in case he was needed. To her credit, she simply bee-lined it from the medical exam room to the apartment and didn't stop to talk to anyone.

Garrus knew she was probably barely holding together as it was. No one called her on her lack of helmet outside of the medical office as well, everyone staring in mute surprise at the human female walking determinedly to her sanctuary.

He wondered what sort of sanctuary it would be now.

Jane was keeping her mind blank on purpose. She couldn't think about what she had walked in on at the warehouse, she couldn't think of the pitiful sorrow on both Sparatus and Garrus' faces, she couldn't think about the face that everyone she passed seemed to stop talking and just stare at her, and she couldn't think about how weak her entire body felt.

All she could do was focus on retracing steps she had taken so many times before.

15 more steps until I turn left, she thought, the 20 more until a right, through the common room and then 7 steps to the door. Remove your glove and enter. You can break down again there.

It was all that was keeping her from collapsing into a pile of self-loathing and hysterics. She had brought this down on Tiberius. She had done this by mere association. Everything she touched with personal desire turned to dust. She could fix everyone but herself.

Finally she got to her apartment. It was just her apartment now. She didn't have a roommate anymore, a bedmate.

"Oh god…" she muttered as she quickly fumbled her glove off and threw herself into her room. He façade broke quickly as she fell to her knees just inside the doorway. They tears streaming down her face again as she gasped for breath.

His smell was everywhere, as was the smell of blood. She was covered in it, she noticed with horror. She tried to stand to get to the bathroom, but she stumbled so many times that after about five feet and multiple attempts she just stayed where she sat and hugged herself.

She wasn't left alone for long, Garrus had been unnoticed behind her and had only stopped long enough to greet and talk to Doran, one of the salarian Councilor's guards. Doran was concerned for Oya and Garrus did his best to reassure the salarian… when he himself had no real assurances.

Doran, understanding the situation, waved Garrus on after the preliminary report was given – the essentials that everyone knew. Stryder was dead and Oya had found him. Garrus felt a pull coming from Oya and Stryder's apartment and wasted no further time before following her.

He had expected to find her crying, but she wasn't. Not loudly at least. Tears were streaming down her face as she sat on the ground and hugged her arms to herself, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Jane.." He said as he walked to her. She didn't look at him when she spoke, "I need to get clean. I have blood everywhere." She sounded so young to him, so much less… Well, her.

"Let's get you to the bathroom, okay? I'll help." He suggested, leaning down to help her up before he realized she might not want to be touched and stalled. She didn't protest and instead gripped his arm as she tried to help pull herself up.

They managed to get her to the bathroom where she worked the latches on her armor. She was having difficulty already and he silently helped. Finally, in her undersuit, she stopped and looked at his chest. He got the hint, she wanted to be alone.

"I'll be just outside if you need anything." He muttered as he left her to her own devices. He was willing to help her however she needed – no sexual connotations present. Not that he could think of her in a sexual way with the state she was in. She reminded him of a small child as she was and he hated seeing her like that.

He couldn't remember a time when she had been so vulnerable, when she had been so defenseless. She had cried against him when Mordin had died, she had thrown data pads over the cabin when Legion died, but she had never been so… Lost.

He sighed as he slid down the wall outside of the bathroom, he heard the shower start and pulled his knees up in to a more comfortable position and lost himself in pleasant memories of the past.

Oya, Jane, whatever she was – La Petite Belle Rouge as the Reds had referred to her in her teens, so many names for one failure of a woman, stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn't a failure to the galaxy, no she had saved them. Countless billions of lives… But never the ones that actually meant something to her.

She deftly removed her undersuit and walked into the shower. The entire wall was a mirror, it had entertained her and Tiberius on more than one occasion, but now it was just an unsightly reminder of her failures.

She stared at herself as her skin turned into a soft pink under the water. She stared at herself for such a long time that she lost track of how long she had been in the shower. Her tears were mixing with the water as she analyzed her life.

She had everything once, friends, and a future. But, then she had to make the choice that would save or doom the galaxy and all she could think was "what are you willing to give up". Three choices, three futures, and only one where she could be selfish for just one minute.

She took it, "not him" was her answer and she chose to risk an entire species and a good friend just for the chance to have a future with Garrus. She never told anyone about that selfish choice.

Then she didn't get that life, it was taken from her by a woman with unknown intentions other than to have Garrus for herself.

Jane's selfishness had cost her Garrus, but then she thought she had a second chance at happiness… A chance to have a happily ever after with Tiberius. She had lost him too, due to her own inability to save people when it really mattered. Her inability to make the right choice.

She stared at herself in the mirror as she walked a bit closer, her hand running over her steam covered reflection.

She shouldn't risk anyone else with her petty desires. She'd proven she was an ugly person time and time again. She saved others so they wouldn't look deeper into her history. She had killed, she had sold her body, and she had done horrible things in the name of survival and selfishness.

Her best gift at this point would be to allow Garrus to find someone else. Someone who wouldn't get him killed.

She stared directly into her reflection's eyes and poured every ounce of self-hate into her glare. Her fists balled and she felt her arm raise as she put all of her force behind her assault on her reflection.

Every moment of weakness, every person she had lost, every sweet embrace by Tiberius… She assaulted the mirror for as long as she could, the shattered pieces falling around her feet in red tinted shards. Her hands finally so abused that she couldn't hold the fist any longer.

Garrus had heard the muffled punches, but they weren't enough to break him from his internal reverie. It wasn't until the crash of glass shattering that he was moved to his feet to check on Jane.

He found her naked in the shower, the water scalding hot and the mirrored wall shattered. Her hands were at her side and blood was mixing with the water runoff. She was looked at the wall with a level of disdain he had never seen on her face before. She didn't even look at Kai Leng like that.

He grabbed a towel and moved to turn the water off. She didn't react to his presence in any way until he wrapped the towel around her. She jumped and nearly slipped on the slick ground, he caught her more fully and bodily picked her up and planted her on the dry ground.

She turned to face him, completely unconcerned with her nudity. Though, he had to admit that it wasn't the first time he had seen her nude and she would probably justify it the same way. She put her hand on his arm and made eye contact with him for the first time that day.

"Garrus," she started seriously and he was captivated by the determination in her eyes and voice, "you need to find someone for you. Someone who can give you everything you want and who won't be a risk to your life."

As she spoke, tears formed in her eyes as she realized what she was saying and Garrus reciprocated her stand and put his own hands on her arms. "I have." He said simply and she instantly started to shake her head violently.

"No, you haven't. I can't lose you too. You need to find someone who makes you happy who isn't a walking target for fate. I won't let you." She said with more ferocity than she felt was wholly necessary. She was determined to make him fall in love with someone, anyone else.

He knew now wasn't the time to argue with her, she was set in her traumatized way. He simply nodded and moved to wrap the towel more fully around her. She nodded herself when she felt that he had headed her request and let him dry her off.

He also worked on bandaging her hands. They weren't cut enough to warrant another doctor's visit, but he needed to preen and take care of her as part of his own mental stability.

She sighed as she walked out of the bathroom and in to her own side of the apartment. "Thank you, you know, for checking on me. I know it can't be convenient." She said softly.

"No, it's no trouble. I would have volunteered anyways. Someone's gotta keep you going." He said with a hint of humor, trying to get a laugh out of her. It didn't work, she merely looked back towards her room and sighed.

"I think I'll be ok for the night." She said in way of dismissal. He waited a few more minutes before nodding again and letting himself out. He would be back in the morning to check on her again, they both knew it.

When Garrus left, Jane dressed herself in one of Tiberius' old casual shirts. It fit her in a hilariously awkward way, but it was saturated in his scent and that made the awkwardness acceptable. She climbed into her bed and held the article of clothing to her face as she fell asleep completely encased in her memories.


	11. Mirror

**Sorry for the slight delay in this one - Work and School are a potent mix for distractions, and school hasn't even started yet!**

**This is probably going to become a once a week update as I get my schedule worked out (I work full time and am a full time student) and I've started updating some other stories on a more regular basis.**

**As always, I adore each and every one of you and I appreciate all of your feedback and patronage.  
**

**Bioware owns all.**

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Jane woke before Garrus had come in to check on her. She knew he'd be there eventually, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She had slept hard, dreaming of the previous day over and over again. Different scenarios played in her head as she changed aspects of the day to try and save Tiberius.

Each time she failed, as she was destined to do when it counted.

She sat up with a sigh, her long black hair falling down her back in wild curls. She pulled a piece up to her face and twirled the curl for a moment before frowning and storming to the bathroom. She rummaged through the drawers until she found her prize – scissors.

She had always loved her hair, had prided herself on the fact that she never dyed it or had to do much for her hair to do what she wanted. Her one aspect of herself she had loved ever since she was a child. She stared at herself, her hair flowing over her shoulders to her navel. She had fought long and hard to keep from cutting it when she enlisted…

She grabbed a chunk of her hair and took the scissors to the raven locks. She cut without much direction at first, getting the majority of the weight off her head. After she drew from her earlier experiences at the brothel and gave herself a rough a-line cut. It was longer than what was generally seen as fashionable, but it was considerably different.

She stared at herself a long time in the mirror, noting the way strands of cut hair clung to her shoulders and collar bone. She plucked a strand of hair off of the front of her shirt and stared at it as tears trailed down her cheeks. Abruptly she made eye contact with her reflection and smirked a bit, this would do for a start.

The old Jane Shepard be damned.

She worked on cleaning up her mess, flushing the evidence before she left to start on with her regime. She knew she should give herself time, let herself just feel; but she didn't want to feel more than she had. She had already cried herself to sleep, and Jane Shepard didn't cry.

She quickly stripped down and put on her armor, she needed to go to the gym. She needed to become strong enough on her own – no more relying on people to get her back. She needed to be emotionally and physically strong. She needed to cut ties.

She softly folded Tiberius' shirt that she had been wearing and placed it in a keepsake box. She planned on donating the rest of his clothes – what use were they to her? But she couldn't bring herself to part with everything. She would dig through it later, she wouldn't want someone else to do it. She could muddle through her emotions at the same time.

She glanced at herself one last time before securing her helmet and pulling her hood up. She walked through the door with her head held high, her emotions buried. She recalled the old techniques she had used as a child in the brothel to bury her feelings. It was no different now, her emotions could get herself and her friends killed.

She couldn't have friends anymore.

She strode past the other Guard members milling in the common area, studiously ignoring the way their conversations stopped and all the helmets were suddenly aimed at her. She walked past and made her way to the gym as if it was any other day. It was just another day, another day dedicating herself to make herself into a honed weapon, an instrument for the Council's uses and nothing more.

Garrus had woken later than he intended, his head heavy from the alcohol abuse he had participated in the previous night. He hadn't intended to get so blotto, but once he started he felt he couldn't stop. The sight of Jane standing in the shower with the mirrored wall in shambles around her, the dead look on her face, kept replaying in his head.

He finally roused himself up enough to start the day when he reasoned that he had to check on Jane. He couldn't help her work through her grief, but he could help to ground her while she worked through it. She would need someone now. She had a tendency to get fatalistic if left to herself for too long – a product of her hard childhood, he had always assumed.

He made himself a cup of tea before leaving his apartment and heading a level down to hers. He walked through the common area sipping his tea before he noticed that the other Guards were huddled and whispering amongst themselves. He wondered what was so interesting when one of the Asari noticed him and made to approach.

He stopped to be polite, expecting questions about Shepard's state. It was no longer a secret as to who she was, but he suspected all of the Guard had an idea of who each of the members were. But even so, Jane had blatantly walked past all of them sans her helmet the previous night – the figurative cat was out of the bag.

The woman spoke softly, her words not registering with Garrus for half a second. She had said that Jane was at the gym. She didn't say any more or any less. They all stared at him expectantly, their postures clearly stating that they wanted him to check on her.

It was clear to Garrus that they were probably discussing going to check on her, but his presence alleviated them of the task. He nodded and turned around to head towards the gym. He mused on his way there that even with a secret identity the persons around her fell in to her orbit. It was no different here than on the Normandy. They all felt a measure of friendship with the small human.

Garrus stopped at the entrance to the gym, noting that there wasn't any of Jane's characteristic music playing. He wondered what that really meant. It was unusual for her to workout in silence, but when he listened closely, all he could hear was the clank of weights moving.

He stepped in to the gym and was surprised to see Jane working out in full armor. Some of the Guards, he had learned, preferred to stay armored at all times – even in the gym, but Jane had said that it was cumbersome.

"Jane…" He said strangely, his own voice surprising him. He sounded hoarse and stale, like he hadn't talked in a long time. He watched as she momentarily stopped mid-repetition, but quickly focused again on what she was doing.

He wasn't sure what she was doing, exactly. She wasn't usually one to brush off someone's death like this – and he especially wouldn't expect her to bounce back so quickly from Tiberius' death. She finished her set and sat up. She moved like she was going to rub sweat off of her face, but stopped mid movement when she remembered that she was fully armored and therefore unable to get to her face.

She dropped her hand and stood up smoothly. She was ignoring him. Garrus didn't know what to think of that, but took it in stride for now. He had been with Jane through the loss of friends and knew that she was unpredictable when she was mourning. She had never walked around in full armor before, but hey, who was he to judge?

He watched her move to the running platform and sighed as she just started at a flat run. She had never been one for running, so he wondered why she was pushing herself so much, but again didn't say anything.

He simply put his mug down and started his own workout routine. He wouldn't push her yet, but at least he could be there for her silently.

He finished his regular routine and even added on some minor exercises while she ran. She was still going the same pace and the track indicator above her indicated that she had run for 6 kilometers. It had been roughly 45 minutes since he started and he was starting to think that maybe she was overdoing it.

He moved in to the aerobics area and stood next to her as she ran.

"Jane." He said more forcefully this time.

She was starting to worry him and he didn't like it. He moved to switch the platform off but she beat him to it. She was breathing heavily when she finally jogged to a stop and he was about to make her take her mask off for more airflow when she simply started to leave.

"Hey! Jane!" He called after her, annoyance filling his tone as she just brushed him off again. Even when she was furious with him before she wouldn't ignore him like this.

He caught up to her and grabbed her arm lightly to stop her from continue.

"Jane, talk to me." He lightly demanded, he wanted answers but he wasn't so impatient as to force her immediately.

She stopped and he thanked the spirits that she wasn't going to make him chase her through the halls. He would, of course; but that didn't mean he wanted everyone to see him at his most lovesick.

"Let me go, Garrus." She said in monotone.

Her tone struck a chord within him and his grip reflexively tightened slightly. His heart started to pound within in chest as scenarios started speeding through his head. What was she doing? What is her plan now? Jane was never this cold sounding before, even at the height of the reaper conflict.

"No, don't you dare shut me out." He realized that he was growling as he spoke. He had no right to demand anything of her – especially not now. _Damnit, I'm not asking her to be my mate, just not to shut me out!_ He wasn't being unreasonable but he was conflicted in demanding something of her.

He watched her as her shoulders slumped slightly. If he wasn't so aware of her he doubted he would have noticed it. However, just as quickly as she slumped she resolved herself again and yanked her arm out of his grip. She stared at him for a moment and turned to walk away.

He went to grab for her again, but was stopped when she said that he could follow her if he wanted. It wasn't an invitation, but she wasn't keeping him from her presence either. He followed her, keeping his appearance casual and relaxed when he was anything but.

He flicked a mandible at the still-gathered Guards as they again stalled their conversation to watch Jane walk back to her room. He hoped they'd take the hint to let him handle it. He watched Jane walk casually back to her apartment. She didn't wait for him to follow her when she entered and he had to hurry through the door to get in before it closed.

He noted that the feeling of the apartment was different than before, it actually felt a bit empty. He couldn't place a finger on why, but he didn't really have much of an opportunity before Jane entered the bathroom and closed the door between them.

Of course she was going to shower, why wouldn't she bathe after that workout. He absently moved about the room, trying to figure out why it felt so different. He wasn't left on his own for long before Jane emerged from the bathroom, showered and dressed in casual clothes.

She raised a surprised eyebrow at Garrus before she grabbed some boxes from the storage room and headed towards what Garrus assumed was Tiberius' side of the apartment.

"I'm fine Garrus, you don't need to stay. I won't kill myself." She said plainly, knowing full well why he was charged with checking up on her.

"Of course you wouldn't." He answered quickly, "Maybe I just want to be here for morale support." He added just as quickly, trying to find an excuse to stay when he knew she wanted to be alone.

She shrugged, allowing him to do as he pleased as she went to the alcove of a bedroom and started cleaning out the closet and dresser. He leaned himself against the wall and watched as she neatly and efficiently sorted Tiberius' things and boxed them for who-knows-what.

She had a small pile of things – mostly guns and pictures – set aside that she didn't put in to the boxes and he wondered briefly if that was going to be her memento pile. They seem innocuous, but he knew from experience that sometimes it was the simplest things that reminded you of someone.

For him it had always been a flowered hair broach that Jane had worn on their first official date.

_They had already consummated their relationship physically, but they were still fumbling with what to do with themselves as a couple. They had gone about it in the wrong order, nothing was set in stone. _

_Neither wanted to push the other too fast and they had been dancing around the subject of them. But, they were still meeting each other nightly, in the closets and where ever they could._

_He knew from the moment he had surprised her in her cabin that he was lost to her, but when he finally got up the courage to ask her to dinner he had worried that maybe he was making a mistake. He had sat at the table for an hour – he was early and she was on time. She walked in to the café and he struggle to breathe. He had known that there would be no one else for him._

_She had apologized for his wait – he had drank several alcoholic beverages in his anxiety ridden time, and he had assured her that she hadn't a reason for apologies. He had stumbled over his words due to a potent mix of lust, awkwardness and surprise. _

_She had always looked like something of a goddess to him, all strength and courage; but right now she was a civilian, like anyone else. _

_No, not like anyone else. She had a white flower adorned clip in her hair, pulling it from her face and what a glorious face it was. He had never before thought of humans as attractive, but she was more than just attractive. She was the one person in the galaxy who could get his blood rushing from his brain and break his calm. _

_She was perfect and he was going to spend every moment he had with her showing her just how special she was._

He watched her relax and tense multiple times before he opened his mouth to say something, but before he could he realized that there was something really wrong with her hair. He had thought she had it up in the style called a "bun", but upon further investigation it seemed like it was shorter.

He didn't stop himself from reaching out and pulling the elastic band from her hair and watched as her hair fell just above her shoulders. He felt a bit like he had been punched in the gut, which was surprising over such a simply thing. Human women cut their hair all the time – other human women did, not Jane. She loved her hair long.

She stopped moving when he pulled out her hair tie and stood stock still with her head angled down as she heard him take in an abrupt breath. She lowered her eyelids as she waited for the questions. She was surprised when all Garrus did was reach out and touch her hair again and even more surprised when all he asked was a simple "why?".

She mulled over the answer for a second before replying. She knew that the truth would simply start an argument, and she wasn't sure what her real plans were just yet.

"It was time for a change," was all she ended up saying as she continued to organize Tiberius' belongings into boxes.

She could feel him tense, obviously unhappy with her answer. She could feel him vibrate with the desire to do something – what she didn't really know. But he surprised her by simply turning and walking out of the apartment.

She looked up at the door when she heard it close behind him and sighed to herself. She didn't want to hurt him, but it was necessary for his safety.

Jane looked back down at the items in the smaller box, these were the items she was going to send to his family. They thought he had died, he had been conflicted about that but felt that he had made the right decision to protect them. They deserved to have something of him.

His younger brother was about the right age to be ready to enlist in the military and he would probably like to have his brother's gun and his mother deserved the picture Tiberius kept of his family.

The only thing she kept for herself was something she didn't even know he had. He had prepared a traditional turian mating gift for her… She had nearly choked on a sob when she stumbled upon it and given herself away with Garrus right there. He had it in a small box with her name engraved on a plaque woven in the chain. The chain held up a blue pendent that shown like crystal – but it wasn't actually rock.

It wasn't actually a rock, but a bit of Tiberius' blood preserved in a hollowed crystal container. Turians who mated for love instead of arrangement were known to give it to their partner – a sort of token to say that a part of them was always with their mate. He had explained how he always wanted to mate for love.

Jane held the necklace in her palm for a long time before finally placing it back in its box and placing the box in her own keepsake container. She wanted to wear the necklace, but she couldn't risk it being damaged. She touched the outside of the necklace box softly before she closed her container and shoved it back under her bed.

After she was done organizing all of the items, she sent a message to Sparatus to have someone pick up the boxes and ship them to their destinations. Sparatus sent someone immediately and she was once again left on her own.

She stood in the center of the apartment for a long time before she realized that she was staring at the now vacant additional bedroom. She felt her walls start to break as she suddenly found herself with nothing to do and her throat and eyes burned with unshed tears.

She slowly found herself falling to her knees on the floor as she silently let the tears fall down her cheeks.

It was so lonely now… She couldn't remember a time when she had felt more alone and her despair steadily grew. She needed to find something to do, she needed to keep her mind clear.

Impulsively she sent a message to Sparatus asking for an assignment. He replying with understandable hesitation, imploring her to rest more, telling her she needed time to mourn. She resolutely stood her ground and demanded something to do – a solo mission, something to keep her busy.

What seemed to finally convince him was her heartfelt plea of, "please don't make me sit here and remember." He hadn't replied for a long time after she sent that, but when he did it was mission details. A classified mission and one that the Council wouldn't normally want anyone to know they were involved in.

Assassination of a merchant who was causing problems for the Council. He had his hand in the black market and made a point to cause trouble for the Council and its representatives at every turn.

Jane questioned herself if she could really become an assassin for the Council. She knew that if she took this mission that she would be selected to do more, especially if she did well. She had no doubts that she would do well, she was an infiltrator after all.

She quickly decided that while the old Jane may have had issues with this, the new one did not. This was just what she needed and she quickly sent back her confirmation.

When Sparatus replied again it was with all of the details that Jane would need and she began to tirelessly plan her route to her mark.


End file.
